Mother of Heaven

Information For Ordering Thanks For The Memories

2011-06-05T10:34:00.001-05:00

I have some updated ordering information for Brice Taylor's book if you wish to order it. If you have been blessed by her book, buy a copy or two from her!

Amazon Link

Brice Taylor Trust which is P O Box 332, Lynn, NC 28750

Last Brice Taylor Chapter

2009-06-07T19:00:00.000-05:00

Writing this manuscript has been so excruciatingly painful, that I found myself wandering the
house looking for some undone chore to take me away from facing the full ramification of the
experiences that bring me to this writing; somewhere, anywhere to escape to. The pain is so deep, so
present, and so pervasive. My heart aches for the love lost, for the suffering endured, for the souls locked
in bondage. Many nights I cry until the tears won't come any longer. Just when I feel like I couldn't
possibly cry another moment, another wave of grief strikes and I hold my body, in an attempt to survive
the aftermath of emotional pain. If it were not for Jesus, I could not have endured. For He has put this
appointment before me. When I was a child, and the torture that often took me near death was too much
to bear, Jesus sent His angels to minister to me, to gently and lovingly guide me back to my body, so I
could be here now to tell you what has happened, so it can stop. And when as an adult I reached a point
in my spiritual healing that I could begin to put the terror associated with Him, created from satanic
ritual abuse, aside, the Master Himself began appearing before me, leading me, guiding me, and
interceding when I was totally alone and in need. Believe me, Jesus is alive today. The Great Healer can
heal anything, everything, we only need to ask. And now we must join together to stop this sinister
agenda so the children won't have to suffer any longer and so humanity can be assured of life free of
mind control. Jesus has asked me to ask you to help. Please help me to help the others. They are so
worthy and have suffered so much. More than anyone I know they deserve a gigantic measure of Christ
love. Recently, as I watched the movie, Schindler's List, I could relate to his frantic desperation and hard
work to rescue and save the lives of as many Jewish people as he could, finally selling his last possessions
to do so. This man realized the precious value of a soul. Jesus calls us to give to those who are in need.

Most victims of mind control and ritual abuse who are trying to break free, are forced to live in stark
poverty and degradation; physically, emotionally and spiritually. They need safety from further abuse
and shelter from the cold; they need blankets, food and clothing. They need nurturing touch and love,
EEG Neurofeedback, therapy with informed clinicians, body therapies, natural healthcare, and they need
skilled and compassionate people to listen to their pain in order to heal the wounds and scars from the
past. Please help in whatever ways you can.

Susan Ford

"The things that are impossible with man are possible with God." -- Luke 18:27
"For with God nothing is ever impossible, and no word from God shall be without power or impossible
offulfillment." -- Luke 1:37

...AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE!

Brice Taylor - Thanks for the Memories

EPILOGUE

A New Vision for the Future

What initially began as journaling in order to sort out my mind, became more of a project once I
began to break free and see that there was some insane organized plan behind the mysteries of my life.
The singularity of my one voice has been lonely over the years, but there were moments when the good
Lord caused my path to cross with at first one, and then two, and then whole groups full of beautiful but
wounded persons who had been though similar experiences. Together all of our voices, telling the same
truths, have gained strength over the years. And today I am not alone in my recovery, for I have many
brothers and sisters all over the globe that have recovered to inform you of much the same grim picture
that I have shared with you here. I have spent the last 14 years cataloging this information, and am now
able to report to you what has been going on behind the scenes so that the truth might set us all free. God
only knows the full ramifications of what has occurred, but this information that I have presented to you
in the clearest manner I know how, will give you a glimpse of the plans and agenda of those who at the
present time are not only pulling the purse strings, but are manipulating the very life force of the
nation and ultimately of the world.

We find ourselves at a time when, in order to survive and insure that our freedoms are reinstated,
we must take action. It no longer serves us as a nation and as a world to turn a deaf ear to what has
occurred. These actions taken by those whose consciousness is dwarfed by the belief in power and
control have, in actuality, called us to a new time of choice. We stand at the crossroads of a new era,
indeed a new millenium. And now it is truly our choice as to where to go from here. Will we continue to
be uninvolved, feeling that the chaos, created intentionally to confuse and disrupt, has caused our world
to seem so unbalanced and turbulent that we feel we don't know how to choose, that we don't know
which way to turn? Or will we see clearly though the chaos and confusion, and rise above their
smokescreen attempts to hide their New World Order plan to enslave the human race, so we can create
another option? We do have many choices. As a matter of fact, what these controllers have led us to is a
clear view of what needs attending to anyway, in our technologically advancing world. Armed with the
information of what is askew, we can now right the wrongs and clearly envision what could be. The lives
of our children and future generations depend upon the choices we make at this pivotal juncture.

We can create a new world. We can create a new reality to include freedoms not yet known to this
planet. We can create new institutions, new ways of ordering society with God's leading and God's
guiding. Many clamor for lives filled with more time: time to rest, to enjoy nature, to spend with family
and friends in simple modes of comradery, time to reflect and time to come closer to God and our higher
nature. These can all be part of a new reality we create together, as God's people. But we have to realize
that to make the choice to stand silent is to let those whose belief in power and control of the masses,
take control in order to enslave us all. They led us to this point in time where we are nearly out of time.

God has called me to sound the wake up call as I join with others around the nation and the world
who are sounding the same alarm. We must wake up and we must act. This is a call to action in order to
avert the culmination of their New World Order plan. Never was there more critical time than now for
standing for what we believe in, unintimidated by disconnected, unhealed beings who are bullying us
around on this beautiful planet of ours, taking control where we have neglected to maintain our
vigilance. The technology that has been created has been used in an evil way, causing harm and
separation among and between individuals, families, groups, and from God, indeed from the higher
nature of our inner being. We can continue to allow our university medical research, military, and space
programs to be filled with an alternate secret agenda, or we can call into account those working within
secret systems that have allowed these mind control atrocities to operate behind protected walls, as those
who participate at the highest levels go unpoliced and undetected.

The Holy Spirit has shown me that once you have completed this book and the veil that once
clouded your eyes has been lifted, many will know how they are called to bring about the swift change
necessary for averting the One World Government and the intended totalitarian New World Order
agenda planned by our controllers. He has shown me that many will know their exact positions and will
know just what part they are to play in reuniting this once strong, free nation. Indeed the vision I see is a
beautiful orchestration of souls. May God bless those individuals with the courage, wisdom, insight, and
love needed to set us back on course. You who are called know who you are and will remember why
you've come. Let us stand as a united front to speak out and take action to protect one of the most
precious gifts we each have: our minds. We must stand up to those who seek control and say, "NO
MORE. THIS ABUSE MUST STOP!" It is time to cast our denial aside and take action as we are
spiritually directed. For we have been called to protect the children.

Please join me in united solidarity. Let's create a safer, beautiful world where children can be born
into peace, safety, and love. If we start at the beginning where life initiates and insure that doorway is
clear, we will go a long way toward insuring the survival of the human race. Many are now more aware of
the damage done to a baby or young child when abuse occurs. Indeed this unconscious state of the abuse
of children continues to snowball as one generation takes the wounding, only to inflict it
unconsciously, without knowledge or understanding, on the next generation. Let us heal these areas
within us that were caused by abuse in our own childhood's, so that we do not continue to inflict those
wounds on the most precious resource we have, our innocent children. Let us protect the doorway for
others born to this planet, that they might discover that it is safe to be born here on earth once again.

Together we can let love prevail. The past has served to clearly show us where we have gone astray. Let's
begin again, by choosing a different outcome and then work together in order to create a new world.

We need the strongest, most courageous among us to stand and call into account those
individuals and groups who have participated in this atrocity; their version of this 'Utopian Hell,' in
order to stop this abuse of children. We need individuals to initiate laws and measures that will not only
insure freedom of the mind, but other very fundamental freedoms taken for granted, that we now stand
to loose. The course of our actions now will determine the future. What will we choose, fear or love?

And now as my job of exposing the deeds and plans of those who worship power and control
comes to a close, I am once again redirected to my job of helping the victims heal. God has
commissioned me to stand at the doorway, to accept donations in whatever way they flow to me as
fiduciary for others who have been abused in similar ways and to set about busily setting up safe healing
centers for victims to seek aid if they choose. The quantity and magnitude of these centers is up to you,
for my job is to be there, and your job, if so called, is to help fund it. Many have been wounded and are
needing our help. The Holy Spirit that guides me has shown me that the outpouring of generosity, in
whatever form, can alleviate much of the suffering and help to avert even much of the earth calamities
and chaos, for the outpouring of love for fellow humanity heals the mass consciousness on the planet. As
we unite around the world in prayer and action we create a very powerful vibration of love; a frequency
that unlocks and heals the hearts of those who have yet to learn the awesome power of Christ love.

We stand at the crossroads to a very important time of choice, action, and giving. Instead of a
One-World Government we can create a One-World Healing. Please help the young and the wounded
among us who depend on our strength and courage to show them a better day. Please give what you can
to insure that this abuse stops and insure the victims a means of healing. They are counting on us. Don't
miss the call.

Shared with love in the celebration of Christ,

Susan Ford
Brice Taylor

To make a donation, please contact Brice Taylor at the address below:
Brice Taylor Trust
P.O. Box 655
Landrum, SC 29356
...AND THE LION SHALL LAY DOWN WITH THE LAMB.

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Brice Taylor - Thanks for the Memories
SURVIVOR RESOURCES
EEG SPECTRUM
For Nationwide Affiliate Listings call: (800) 789-3456
or visit the website at www.eegspectrum.com

Some of you, after reading this book, may be left with many unanswered questions about your
own relationship to the material in this book. You may wonder how you fit into this picture ...are you,
too, under mind control? Let me share with you the following inspiration from a survivor of mind control
who discovered that her own experiences paralleled, even at times interwove, with those presented in
this book:

A Survivor's Experience

"I, too, have a story. Some of the details are all too similar to Sue's. Much I don't yet remember.
What I do know is that ten years ago, I began having memories of abuse ...first by my uncle, then my
father, then floods of memories of Satanic and ritual abuse. This is where I stalled, if you will, for five
years. I believed during that time that I was free from my captors, as long as I kept my distance. And I
went about rebuilding a life for myself, carefully controlling my environment so that I wouldn't be
triggered by "my past" any more than I could handle. I thought I was being a really good mom, and wife,
and friend. And yet, I continued to be tormented by nightmares, memories, feelings of agitation, anger,
rage, and depression. Deep inside of me, I knew that I wasn't free. And yet, I still believed that I was reexperiencing
the past. Now what I know is that I was still involved, unconsciously triggered even to
return to satanic rituals while the abuse continued and, under mind control, I was still carrying out the
wishes of those attempting to bring in the "New World Order." Now I have seen what I could not see
before - a "reality" that is being carried out by some misguided souls on earth at this time.

Through the help of EEG Neurofeedback, I have been able to reclaim my mind, for my own use. I
am aware of what a gift it is to have the use of some of the same technology that was previously used to
control me, to now set me free. I am finding that EEG Neurofeedback is helping me to integrate quickly,
as I learn to stay alert and attentive and not dissociate. I am also learning to keep myself safe by
discovering the ways that others have been able to "access" me through programming.

I would say that the major focus of these past five years has been strengthening my connection to
God and learning to discern the different voices, or promptings, from within. How do I decide what to
trust? Who or what is worthy of my trust? The key for me has been prayer. When I haven't known what
to believe in, I have prayed to know. I have learned to trust that there is a God ...a Power greater than any
that humans can wield on this planet. And so, I go directly to that Source. Those prayers continue to
bring me the healing and the safety that I seek. Please join me and the many others who are committed
to living our true purpose, and loving ourselves and each other into freedom."

-- A Ritual Abuse and Mind Control Survivor
Brice Taylor - Thanks for the Memories

Chapter 38.

2009-05-06T17:28:00.001-05:00

Chapter Thirty-eight: A Mother and Grandmother’s Sorrow

A GRANDMOTHER'S SORROW: SUE'S MOM

A Family Torn Apart

My husband was a welder and when we were first married he worked at the shipyards where he
got hurt. One night, while working in the dark, he ran into a steel plate, hit his head, and was knocked
unconscious. He sustained serious neck injuries and six months later his neck became very painful and
shook uncontrollably. The diagnosis was torticollis of the neck. He was in so much pain that he would try
anything the doctors suggested; such as shock treatments, being injected with typhoid fever, endless
experimental drugs, brain surgery and many other medical interventions.

When he was 45 years old he was told by a doctor that he only had five years to live. He wanted to
be sure his young family would be taken care of so he bought all the life insurance he could get.

In the meantime, he quit the shipyards and opened his own welding shop. My youngest son loved
welding and became very good at it. My oldest son went to college and graduated as a geologist.

Eventually, though, they both worked at the welding shop. They fought constantly. It was driving my
husband nuts. He got up one morning and was acting like a crazy man. He said he was going to the shop
and fire one of them, he didn't know which. I was scared and devastated. I begged and pleaded with him
but I could not reason with him. He came home later and told me he had fired the older son. I was
surprised that he hadn't fired the youngest son. He had always nagged him and verbally abused him.

A few weeks later my husband asked me for a tape recorder. He said he wanted to make a tape for
his oldest son. I helped him get it ready and left the room. A short time later when I looked in on him, he
was holding the tape recorder and crying. Later, I found out he had said that he had to fire the oldest boy
because the younger son held something over him. The older son asked if it was business and my
husband said, "No, personal."

Our son asked, "What was it Pop, did you have an affair?"

"Much worse," my husband answered.

Years later, he went to his deathbed carrying the secret. The thought that it might be incest, child
pornography or any of these other horrors never crossed my mind.

My two sons are estranged. I've tried many times since 1974 to talk to my sons, to get them to at
least talk to one another, but to no avail. The younger boy was willing but the older one said, "No way." It
hurt me so bad for so long I thought I would go crazy. One night I said to God in my prayers, "God, I
can't handle this, you take over."

In 1967, my husband had brain surgery to stop the pain and shaking in his neck. They went down
through the brain to sever the nerves that were causing the pain. It helped but he was in the hospital for
a long time.

A few years later he had a heart attack and finally had open-heart surgery. There were
complications. During the surgery he went without oxygen for four minutes. They said because he had
brain surgery, his brain became swollen and he had edema of the brain. He was coma-like for 12 days.

When he came out of it he was like a vegetable, didn't know any of us. He was helpless, couldn't feed
himself, go to the bathroom or walk. After months of physical therapy he was able to walk and could pick
up food with his hand. His memory was partially blocked. This deficit impaired his whole left side. He
never regained all of his memory. I took him home and took care of him.

My daughter stopped by one day, which was not unusual, as she lived down the street. She asked
if she could talk to me. She said she had something to tell me so we went outside and sat on the swing in
the back yard. She told me her father had sexually abused her. I was shocked, stunned, sad, and
couldn't believe what I was hearing. She also said, "You and grandma also abused me."

I started crying and thought, "Where was I?" I had no memory of any of this happening. I finally
said to her, "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that I can't remember." But I was so naive when I got
married right out of High School. I thought we were a normal, happy family and this accusation shocked
me to the roots. I thought and thought but could not remember a thing. I do remember often saying
when the kids were little that life seemed to good to be true.

Later she told me that I had abused all three of her children. I couldn't believe that I had done
that, as I love those children like my own. I was heartsick and kept praying it was not true. She gave me a
booklet from Los Angeles Women's Task Force on Ritual Abuse, and wouldn't let me see her children
anymore. I could hardly function. I was heartsick, like in a trance.

As my daughter told me more about the abuse, I tried so hard to remember, but couldn't. In going
over her allegations and remembering her childhood, I thought there were times the abuse could have
happened. But she appeared to be a normal, happy little girl. She was such a good little girl, obedient,
loving and just a little angel.

Sometime in the late 80's my daughter told me her father had sexually molested her from the time
she was a baby. After Sue continued to tell me more, I began to believe her and that this really happened.

I could hardly stand to look at my husband or take care of him any longer but he was a sick old, helpless
man so I continued to care for him, every second hating him. But no matter what happened, he never
complained.

Shortly after this she came to confront her father. She told him he had sexually abused her. He
had a very hard, angry look as he looked at me and said, "Your daughter is crazy." She left and we didn't
see her for a very long time. I would call but she wouldn't answer the phone or talk to me.

My husband continued to be a very sick man and had to be taken care of. From then on, I only
spoke to him when I had to. To think he had abused our daughter made me hate him. I had loved him for
over 50 years. Now I couldn't even let him touch me at night. If he happened to put his leg or arm across
me, I'd kick him.

After my daughter's two accidents that both happened on April 12th, two years apart, my daughter
disappeared. I didn't know where she was. I was so afraid for her. She had not spoken to me for many
months. It was like losing my arm. We were, I thought, so close and now she wanted nothing to do with
me. I felt like it was a dream or a terrible nightmare that I'd wake up from in the morning and it wouldn't
be true. I was so worried about her. Without talking and praying to God, I never would have gotten
through that separation from her.

I felt like I was going crazy, so I went to a therapist. The therapist did not seem to be helping me.

After Sue fled from California, she called me and told me she was running for her life. One day I told my
therapist that I had sent Sue money to help her write the book she explained she was needing to write to
stay alive. The therapist surprised me when she said emphatically, "Don't give her any more money."
I told this therapist, "God told me to help my daughter." That's when I stopped going to her. Sue
was my daughter and my heart said to help her. In spite of the abuse allegations, her father kept saying
to me, "Help her, Honey. Help her."

I continued caring for my husband; he was helpless and couldn't do anything for himself. I gritted
my teeth and helped him, all the while hating him. He never mentioned the abuse again.

I got a call one day from my daughter. I was elated to hear from her. She was in Hawaii and she
wanted me to know that she was going to be hit by this hurricane and didn't know what would happen to
her. Later on the news, they showed the island of Kauai damage from Hurricane Inniki. It was in ruins. I
tried to call her but all lines of communication were down. Finally after a few days, she called to say she
was alright, but lost everything she had.

When she came back to the states she called and told me more about her abuse. I was so
confused but even though I could not remember anything, I began to believe it was all true. She moved
from place to place to stay alive and finally called and said she was safe, but wouldn't tell me where she
was. I felt so relieved that she was safe and getting help.

First it's My Daughter, Then My Granddaughter

Then her teenage daughter started having problems. Without any apparent reason, she tried to
commit suicide three separate times. She is such a sweet, loving girl. I could hardly let myself think of
her being sexually abused. And if I had abused her, I shouldn't be allowed to live. We talked but my
granddaughter couldn't seem to tell me why she had made those attempts. She finally decided to go live
with her mother. She had only three months of school here in California until she graduated. We thought
she could finish her school there. She was okay for awhile with her mother and then she started being
dysfunctional and finally became catatonic. My daughter was frantic. She couldn't handle her, as Sue is
much smaller in stature and not as physically strong as my granddaughter is. She called and told me she
was taking her to the hospital. She didn't know what else to do.

My granddaughter was in the hospital a very short time when somehow she was able to call her
father. She told him she was being held against her will and would he please come get her. He did fly
there and get her. But, instead of taking her to their home where she thought she would be going, he
explained to her that she needed help and he was taking her to a halfway house, a place that other
teenagers who needed help lived. She shared a room with a teenage girl who also had problems. They
had a lot of rules. She began functioning, taking care of herself, and doing her chores. She often just went
to bed and slept. I started picking her up on Sundays. We would eat, shop, or take a ride. She was always
so happy to see me. I called her almost every day; she would call me, too, not for anything in particular,
just to talk. I asked her one time how she felt when she thought she was going home with her dad and
found out she was really going to a halfway house. She said she felt abandoned.

Her mother suggested that EEG Biofeedback might help her, so every Thursday, I'd pick her up
and take her. She loved frozen yogurt so we'd always stop for that. We'd talk and she always said she
hated where she was living. She was able to finish her high school course. They taught her how to take
the bus, so one day she enrolled at Pierce Junior College to take a psychology class. She had only 10 days
to finish the class when she called her Mom and said she couldn't stand it there at the home anymore.

Together my daughter and I got her a ticket, that was a Saturday and she was to leave on Monday.
Saturday night her father picked her up and tried to talk her out of going, but she stood firm and said she
was going. She was so scared to go alone. She kept saying, "What if I can't find the gate I'm suppose to go
to?"

I told her to go to the counter and tell them, "I need help." I called the day of her flight to be sure
the shuttle had picked her up. I prayed all day that God would watch over her and keep her safe. She
arrived safely and my daughter was there to meet her and take her home. She was okay for awhile then
started staring off again as if she were in a trance and didn't seem aware of anything going on around
her. I feel so helpless, I want to help her but I don't know how.

Her brothers and I went for a visit with her and her mother. She would be fine one minute and
then she would start staring and not talking, then she'd be okay again.

When I think about my granddaughter and all she is going through I can hardly bear it. Such a
waste of a young, loving, life and what a horrible thing that she has to suffer and go through all the pain.

These are things that should not happen to anyone.

My daughter is now healed and is doing everything she can to help and heal her daughter. I pray
constantly that my granddaughter can be healed and lead a normal life. I am so proud of both of them.
My husband was a man who had been severely physically, sexually, and verbally abused as a child.

I loved him and trusted him. He was so loving and sweet sometimes and other times he would be so
nasty and mean. He was like two different people. I know now he suffered from Multiple Personality
Disorder.

He dearly loved his family. He was very proud of his two sons and dearly loved his little girl. I was
not aware at the time that he was sexually abusing our daughter.

By 1990 I was physically unable to take care of him. He was in a wheelchair and had to be lifted
many times during the day. I found a nice board and care for him and, although I hadn't seen my oldest
son in years, I called and asked if he would come and morally support me while I told my husband about
the move. He said, "Okay, what have I got to lose." He came and explained to his dad how I couldn't
physically take care of him and had found a nice place for him.

My husband said, "Okay, if that's what you want to do with me."

At that time I was seeing all of my kids, but always separately. I couldn't speak about any of them
to the one I was seeing. It was hell. When I would call my oldest son's wife, she was very cool. Finally she
called and started questioning me about Sue's sexual abuse. I told her, "I don't remember anything, but I
believe her."

She said, "How could you believe your daughter and still take care of your husband?"

I was shocked. I told her he was a sick, old, helpless man, what did she want me to do with him?

She called later and asked how I could see my younger son after all the things he had done and I told her,
"I guess I have unconditional love for my children."

Her reply was, "Not me, my kids have to earn my love and they have."

After that my oldest son and daughter-in-law wanted nothing more to do with me. I was not to
call, send birthday cards or presents of any kind. I once asked my oldest son if he had forgiven his father
for firing him. He said, "In my head I have, but in my heart I haven't."

My husband died alone in a rest home in April of 1996.

I notified my children. The only thing the oldest boy said was, "I'm sorry to hear that." My
husband was cremated and there was no service.

My family is ruined. Not one of my children speaks to the other. I have ten grandchildren and
three great-grandchildren. I dream sometimes of us all sitting around the table on holidays and just
enjoying each other and being a loving family, then I wake up to reality.

This generational sexual abuse and mind control has ruined this family. It breaks my heart as it
seems I can't help to stop this, only by supporting my daughter. I pray for all my grandchildren's safety.

Thank God, the truth about this abuse is finally coming out so other little children will be safe from it.

In the last three years, I have thought so much about my husband's abuse and have finally
forgiven him. I hope he is at peace and looking down on us all, happy to see his daughter working so hard
to end this abuse for so many children.

Bettie Eckhart
Sue's Mom

A MOTHER'S SORROW: SUE FORD

Turning the Tide

The pain and loss of family locked into the bondage of mind control is more excruciating than
losing them to physical death. I miss my family more than they could ever imagine, in truth, more than I
could have ever imagined. I will never be able to replace my husband, or the life I thought we were living.

I just wished he had chosen to heal with me. Why didn't he? Or is it really, why couldn't he? Whatever it
is or was, he didn't or couldn't, and so I have gone ahead and forged a path for freedom and sweet release
for my children and myself, and have lighted a path for others if they choose. Perhaps my husband was
never consciously able to know that we were programmed together and never really had a chance to
comprehend who we really were independently or as a couple, but I feel sure that I knew his spirit. In
truth, he was the most gentle, loving and giving man I have ever known. I know why my daughter is
having so much trouble coming out of a catatonic state, because it is so painful to deal with the reality
that the very ones that you love and that love you are the ones that are programmed to hurt you so much.

That is the nature of the evil system that has kept so many under mind control bondage. But, the truth is
that all of us were programmed by a source outside of ourselves, at birth; a time when none of us were
able to change any of the horrendous circumstances we faced.

To have had this seemingly beautiful family and then to wake up to reality only to find that it
wasn't beautiful, that instead our lives were interlaced with terror, abusive horrors, and atrocity; nothing
was as it seemed. To wake and find that I wasn't safe, and then to retrieve the agonizing memories that
led to discovering that my children were not safe, was harrowing. And then to deal with the fact that my
husband, the father of my children, was programmed to drug, rape and deliver us, was as painful, if not
more painful than my father doing the same to me. I find myself curled into a fetal position on the floor
more nights than I care to think about, crying out in desperation and in a pain that never seems to go
away, a pain that really never lessens. The pain is a great burden and yet I find that to carry it is to feel
what is real. And, with that, I feel the great love and strength that has carried me this far.

Like my daughter, I want my family back. I want the love that we all thought was there. I want
everyone healed. I want especially for my children to be freed and released. If I had to give my life for
that, I would indeed feel that it was spent wisely. I pray daily that God will carry me to make whatever
contribution I can, and that He will light the path for my children's freedom. Indeed, for the freedom of
all those who suffer.

I have never felt so uncertain about the future. I have given up the hope that any of the wrong's
will be righted overnight. I never could have left, in my attempt to save my life and heal in order to get
help for my family, had I known that it would have taken this many years and that my family would still
not be free. Still under mind control, and not yet recovered enough to have the full memories that made
the picture of our high level slavery more complete, I naively thought that I could get my children out of
danger and into safety and healing much quicker. I never thought that it would take this many years to
ignite public intervention and outcry - and then to have my sweet, loving, gentle daughter Kelly left in a
completely dysfunctional state, and my two sons in total disbelief and unable to hear anything I have to
say to point their way to safety and freedom, due to their own programming.

I will never again tell survivors that I live in peace and contentment, because I don't. I have been
given the Grace of God that allows me to live in a somewhat dissociated state of mind with the painful
reality of all that has happened in the background as I presently live a somewhat successful life. But it
doesn't stop the pain. There are times when I want to pretend none of this is real, I want to escape into
dissociation, right along with Kelly. I miss her. I miss Craig, I miss Kevin and Danny. God, I miss them
all! Please God, use me in my brokenness to help others not have to hurt this much.

I must be very dangerous to the architects of this evil system and my high level controllers. For I
am a woman who loves God and her family more than life itself, and will not bow down to fear. In many
ways I am fearless for I have nothing left to loose. Everything precious to me has been taken away. Every
bond that was sacred, has been tainted, and broken. Birth, life, marriage, children; family relationships
of father, mother, brother, husband, son, daughter, all tainted and destroyed. All that was before lies in
ruins. Total and complete ruins. And what remains in the future is in your hands. For I have laid down
the burden. I have spent the past 14 years communicating what happened to me to as many persons
possible. I am tired and spent and the future depends on humanity's decisions and actions. I pray for the
release of the many. I pray for the release to be timely. I pray for the release to be gentle and full of grace,
love, and ease, instead of through pain and suffering. I love God and I am grateful for His leading. I pray
for strength in the face of what God has planned for my life, that I might fulfill my purpose.

Writing this manuscript has been so excruciatingly painful, that I found myself wandering the
house looking for some undone chore to take me away from facing the full ramification of the
experiences that bring me to this writing; somewhere, anywhere to escape to. The pain is so deep, so
present, and so pervasive. My heart aches for the love lost, for the suffering endured, for the souls locked
in bondage. Many nights I cry until the tears won't come any longer. Just when I feel like I couldn't
possibly cry another moment, another wave of grief strikes and I hold my body, in an attempt to survive
the aftermath of emotional pain. If it were not for Jesus, I could not have endured. For He has put this
appointment before me. When I was a child, and the torture that often took me near death was too much
to bear, Jesus sent His angels to minister to me, to gently and lovingly guide me back to my body, so I
could be here now to tell you what has happened, so it can stop. And when as an adult I reached a point
in my spiritual healing that I could begin to put the terror associated with Him, created from satanic
ritual abuse, aside, the Master Himself began appearing before me, leading me, guiding me, and
interceding when I was totally alone and in need. Believe me, Jesus is alive today. The Great Healer can
heal anything, everything, we only need to ask. And now we must join together to stop this sinister
agenda so the children won't have to suffer any longer and so humanity can be assured of life free of
mind control. Jesus has asked me to ask you to help. Please help me to help the others. They are so
worthy and have suffered so much. More than anyone I know they deserve a gigantic measure of Christ
love. Recently, as I watched the movie, Schindler's List, I could relate to his frantic desperation and hard
work to rescue and save the lives of as many Jewish people as he could, finally selling his last possessions
to do so. This man realized the precious value of a soul. Jesus calls us to give to those who are in need.

Most victims of mind control and ritual abuse who are trying to break free, are forced to live in stark
poverty and degradation; physically, emotionally and spiritually. They need safety from further abuse
and shelter from the cold; they need blankets, food and clothing. They need nurturing touch and love,
EEG Neurofeedback, therapy with informed clinicians, body therapies, natural healthcare, and they need
skilled and compassionate people to listen to their pain in order to heal the wounds and scars from the
past. Please help in whatever ways you can.
Susan Ford

"The things that are impossible with man are possible with God." -- Luke 18:27

"For with God nothing is ever impossible, and no word from God shall be without power or impossible
offulfillment." -- Luke 1:37

...AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE!

Chapter 37

2009-04-12T18:40:00.000-05:00

Chapter Thirty-seven: What the World Needs Now

What Now? We Are Called To Love

And so for many, many years, Henry Kissinger and Bob Hope strategically placed me and
members of my family in locations to further their interests. During those times, my children and I were
used in various ways and prostituted to more worldly-affluent, famous, publicly adored leaders and
entertainers than I care to remember. Personally, I would like to stay in denial and believe this never
could have happened. But for the interests of many, I cannot afford to believe anything less than what I
have discovered is the truth. I have chosen to share a fragment of these experiences with you so that you
could know the level of technology that has been developed and to show you the danger of the ways those
who carry a belief of power and control, and who at this time are out of alignment with their true
spiritual nature, have misappropriated their duties to our nation and to the world.

Spiritually I have grown to realize that while the worldly Elite's positions are often determined by
heredity, and in the business world nobility comes from ability, ambition, or success; in the eyes of God,
nobility comes from those who serve others. Through all of my experiences at the hands of leaders from
all over the world, I have learned that to be a true leader is to know your stewardship to those you serve,
not to gobble and hoard the benefits for self while fooling and robbing those who count on you, who elect
and trust you to serve the good of the whole. I also know now that truly great leaders are humble and
their joy comes from the glorious privilege of serving others.

And I will tell you, as would my precious daughter Kelly if she could, that the current leadership
under President Clinton is no different than the ones before. Indeed Kelly could start up the next chapter
on William Clinton and could tell you the size of his genitals, the perverted ways he chooses to utilize his
sexuality and how he, like many of the Presidents before him, is locked into the bondage of a power
hungry system that will continue with each new President after him, unless this system is dismantled
and a new system of governing, one based on the needs of the people, a true republic, born of God, for
the good of the whole, is reinstated. But it will take each of us, all those who the Elitists feel have no
intellect and no motivation, to stand up and speak out for what we believe in---perhaps even sharing our
'simple minds and spiritual natures' with those who for years have felt the right and the need to lord over
us. For, once society has seen the problem, the solution is in sight.

I believe each individual is imbued with a gift from God to contribute to society as a whole and as
each individual finds their true purpose and joins in, contributing that gift, we will then have a fullbodied,
rich orchestration of individuals, evolving to the highest possible levels. That is when we as a
society reach a more perfect state!

I also learned that freedom is not free and we must now stand in the battle, not through violence
and war, but through knowledge, truth, and love, claiming our true spiritual power and willing to take a
stand so our voices can be heard!

Healing

Healing spiritually, through a life such as mine, has been my ultimate challenge, and God has
continued to keep my focus on this healing aspect, despite worldly opinion, which would lead me to seek
in other directions. During the years of pain and suffering that led me out of mind control bondage,
Margie Paul shared with me the following passage, by Emmet Fox, which I read constantly. It uplifted
and strengthened me and reminded me of the truth. I would like to share it here with you.

LOVE

There is no difficulty that enough love will not conquer;
No disease that enough love will not heal;
No door that enough love will not open;
No gulf that enough love will not bridge;
No wall that enough love will not throw down;
No sin that enough love will not redeem...
It makes no difference how deeply seated may be the trouble;
How hopeless the outlook;
How muddled the tangle;
How great the mistake;
A sufficient realization of love will dissolve it all...
If only you could love enough
you would be the happiest
and most powerful being in the world...

In 1998, when all of my former life lay in ruin around me, I heard the Holy Spirit ask me who was
the one person I hated most? The answer came quickly and easily. Silently I responded, "George Bush,"
since he was a man who repeatedly hurt my baby girl from very early on. The same day the Holy Spirit
questioned me, I received a hospital advertisement in the mail cheerfully announcing that George Bush
would be visiting a local hospital just 25 minutes from my home. I was devastated that people still looked
at him as a person of honor, and associated him with charity and healing? Then the challenge from Jesus
came when he called me to love George Bush. I couldn't do that initially, it took many prayerful hours for
me to ask God to please change within me the attitudes that needed changing in order for me to love and
forgive George Bush. Obviously, that didn't happen overnight, but it did take place, at first just for a
fleeting moment and then for longer periods of time. That doesn't mean that I stop working toward
exposing the system that has caused this misuse of human life, nor does it mean that I think what my
perpetrators did was right or excusable. It simply means that no matter what they or anyone else does to
me, they do not have the power to make me hate, or the power to take away my right to love, for love is
my continuing goal.

Forgiveness

I was confused and tormented as I awakened to the realization that my father and others had
abused me in such horrific ways and that they had actually taken control of my life for nearly 40 years.
The awareness that churches had been places where I was often victimized, by individuals who I
associated with being the most loving, added to my torment and bewilderment. I searched for answers,
through reading about many religions, trying to find the truth, and one night I had a dream in which I
heard the word "Beatitudes." Upon waking, the word stuck in my mind and later, while attending a
religion class at Pepperdine University, I went to my professor and asked him what the word meant. He
told me and later on that day, I went across the street to the Malibu Presbyterian Church to speak to the
assistant minister. Little did I know that through my seeking, the Great Master Healer himself would
appear to me, but that is exactly what happened. The minister ushered me into his office and after I
confessed that I had been severely abused as a child, had Multiple Personality Disorder, had been forced
to participate in satanic rituals where infants, children, and animals were killed - and as I went on and on
- he looked at me in horror, and said, "Get down on your knees, and ask God to forgive you of your
transgressions. You are a sinner."

The moment my knees hit the floor, Jesus appeared to me and said, "Get up off your knees, and
leave. You my child are innocent, you have done nothing wrong." Taking the authority of the Lord, over
this human who stood ministering in His name, I did as commanded and left. I couldn't understand yet
what Jesus was trying to help me understand. It took time for Him to reassure me that those acts,
committed in a programmed state, acting from other person's commands and not from my own free
will, were not my sin. In the days that followed, Jesus showed me that He wanted me to stand in the
name of Mercy for others who had been similarly tortured and abused. Over time, He called me to
minister and share His words of mercy and forgiveness with other victims who presented themselves to
me in women's shelters, at my office, at mental health conferences, and through letters of response to
victims who wrote, pouring out their hurts to me after they read my book I know that this message from
Jesus, one of complete forgiveness, touched the hearts and minds of the people I spoke with, as deeply as
it did me because I saw the tears of relief and understanding well up in their eyes. God wants His people
free.

I had many experiences where His Angels demonstrated that they were guiding me. I heard the
Holy Spirit whisper, "get up from your reading, and go down to the Bazaar." I hadn't known that there
was a Christmas bazaar at Pepperdine, but I followed the voice of the Holy Spirit and was led to a small
purple book entitled, "Angels Are Watching Over Me. " And if I doubted that it was true, in the months
and years that followed, the voice of the Holy Spirit led me to books, places, and people to help me heal
and gain freedom. Books even fell off of shelves in libraries, many of them reminding me that the Angels
of the Lord were ever present and that I was not to worry. Other books I was led to helped me organize
my healing in such ways that, when healing took place, it was core healing and not superficial or
drugged.

I often tell the story of the experience I had at traffic school. During the early stages of my
recovery, despite the smile that betrayed my true inner feelings, I was so full of repressed, subconscious
rage that it often found its release in driving too fast and I continually got traffic tickets for speeding; one
day I got two! Since I was already on assigned risk and my insurance rates were extremely high, my
husband suggested I go to traffic school, so I did. The traffic schoolteacher was younger than I, but that
day she had an important message for me. I had been wrestling with just how I was going to forgive these
people who had done this to my children and myself. As I explained my dilemma she said, "All you have
to do is heal yourself so you have something left for giving." I know now that what she said was true and I
understand the wisdom because, now in a healed state, I do have much to give. And, I thank God for
that.

In Carbondale, Illinois, in 1995, nearly one year after my final integration and deprogramming, I
was working in the garden. It was a warm day and I luxuriated in the midst of the peace and solitude that
I found among my tomato and zucchini plants. Very clearly, I once again heard the voice of the Holy
Spirit, this time instructing me to go visit my father.

"God, you want me to do what?" I couldn't believe I was being asked to go and visit this man who
had tortured and programmed me for so many years, besides it wasn't safe for me in California, I had
actually been raped there as 1 made my initial attempt to get Starshine into print in 1993. But I heard the
words very clearly, "Go visit your father, fly under your real name, stay 24 hours and then return. An
intelligence officer will approach you. Do not be afraid. Tell him what happened to you and to your
children."

I thought maybe I hadn't heard correctly. So, I took this into prayer and in a very short while I
knew I was to go to California. Soon God showed me a vision where I saw lights on in the White House
symbolizing individuals who would wake up and help. Then He shared with me that, like the men's
secret society (freemasonry) that has allowed secret knowledge to be passed between men, that He also
had a secret society that was more powerful-The Holy Spirit. Then He showed me that as men's secret
societies fund and support each other, so shall God's people fund and support their own. He showed me
that through Him, and in His time, the Holy Spirit would connect people and allow them to be of like
mind, so the truth could come to light. Although I didn't actually understand how this was going to come
about, I was encouraged.

I booked my ticket, and the next day I went to California, to the nursing home where my father
was being cared for. When I walked in, I was moved seeing my father sitting in a chair, withered and
small, a whisper of the physical stature he had been before. When he saw me, he immediately began
crying, and through his tears he cried, "I love you. I knew you'd come."

I got down on my knees before my father and said, "Dad, I forgive you."

Looking me directly in the eyes, he replied in a childlike manner, "I forgive you too." At that
moment I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my father, this man who had tortured me for years,
had no idea, no memory, no awareness of what he had done. Still crying he said, "Jesus brought me
here." This statement caught me totally off guard, as here was a man who together with my brothers had
ridiculed and berated me for my belief in Christ for years. I had so much I wanted to ask my father, but
was overwhelmed with emotion. Trying to gather myself, I looked around his room. There on his
bookcase, was a golden spider web with a crystal spider in the middle. Woven into this art piece was a
Ronald Reagan wristwatch. My thoughts raced to information an Intelligence officer "in the know" once
explained to me, that victims will surround themselves with their programming and often will display
objects that speak to that which they verbally can't, as a form of subconscious communication. This
spider web spoke to me deeply through subconscious communication, and although my father could not
tell me what he knew, he had carefully preserved this piece to speak what he could not. Again deeply
touched, I asked him if I could have it. He said, "Sure, take anything you want." My father and I cried
together. There was so much I wanted to tell him and have him tell me but he was no longer able. But
God knew that I needed to see my father this one last time, in order to complete my healing and
forgiveness process. And that day, I totally and completely forgave my father. I understood why he had
done what he had done. As I stood to leave, I kissed him one last time and told him I loved him, and
looking back I am so grateful that God led me to that culmination and completion with my father. Less
than three months after that meeting my father passed away.

As I drove my rental car to the airport to fly back to Illinois I realized that the intelligence officer
experience had not yet occurred. But I was not to be disappointed because, shortly after I took my
window seat on the aircraft, a distinguished looking black man took the isle seat. After takeoff he flashed
his badge and identified himself as White House intelligence for the last 29 years. Taking his business
card out of an organizer, he laid it on the seat between us. Unconsciously, still bound to the protocol of
my controllers, as much us I wanted to, I couldn't pick up his card. Nervously, I thought to myself, 'Oh
God, this is it'

This suited man began by telling me, "There are some things you need to know. One is that once
in the company always in the company. Don't believe anyone that tells you they've retired from the
company (CIA)." Next he said, "When you speak publicly don't name the names."

I told him I wouldn't. At that moment the words spoken to me by the Holy Spirit in the garden,
came back to me, "Tell him what happened." So, I told this man about the abuse of my children and
myself that often led to our victimization in the White House. He told me that he thought women like me
"just liked to be with Presidents." And finally, as we walked off the plane, the words he spoke surprised
me as I realized maybe this man had a spiritual awakening, was serving a higher calling, and was one of
the 'lights on the White House' that God had shown me. He said that he was committed to informing
ministers of churches to do their jobs in helping victims. I was encouraged.

Over the years, what I witnessed in my father was something that I have noticed in many of the
victims of the mind control projects. He was extremely inventive and futuristic and had many
personalities that were extremely loving. My father designed and built solar water heaters that he
installed on the roof of our Woodland Hills home in the 1950's, and shared thoughts and ideas that
continually astounded me. Due to the shattering of his own psyche through the ritual abuse he
endured as a child, coupled with the mind control programming forced upon this already vulnerable
man, he was never in control of his own mind. From birth, his free will was taken from him through the
abuse he endured at the hands of his parents who themselves had been through the same victimization
passed through intergenerational, subconscious mental illness. Then, in a final attempt to harness the
complete control of his daughter, the doctors at UCLA took the last vestiges of my father's free will when
they performed the brain surgery that gave them total control.

Breaking the Denial That Holds Us Captive

Honestly, I can understand the denial many of you may be facing in regard to all that I have
shared with you, as I faced the same denial over and over. I did not want to believe that any of the reality
that kept intruding into my mind was real. Often I wanted to believe I was insane, and at times even
wished I could choose to live out the rest of my days rocking back and forth in a drugged stupor in some
sanatorium. Then not only in response to programming, but also feeling trapped in a pain and confusion
I often felt I could not bear alone another day, initially, I had moments when I contemplated suicide. But
due to the ramifications that act would have had on my children, that was never a choice I could make. I
had to keep asking God to strengthen me so I could face the painful reality and heal in order to make a
difference in the lives of my children.

Forget the Past, Live in the Present?

It has been said that those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it and I believe this is part of
the situation we face today because until now we haven't been told enough valid historical information.
Before my recovery, like most Americans, I was more interested in my future than in my past but was
soon forced to deal with it due to constant flashbacks. But what if a person's past holds a potent key to
his or her future? And what if that past holds intergenerational and worldly information that when
realized and righted will resonate throughout future generations, causing freedom and a better quality of
life? Knowing my past has set me free and I am grateful for the spiritual guidance that told me that I had
to go backward before I could go forward. Although dire circumstances forced me to revisit my past, I
now know that the inner work I completed in researching and healing the dark, hidden areas of my own
past will reverberate throughout the spiritual genes of my progeny's future and I am glad for that.

Don't Worry, Be Happy!

At first when these bits and pieces of memory began surfacing in my mind, I was terrified and
continually dismissed them, as others told me things like, "You're just too tired. You have a big
imagination. You have everything a woman could want. Why don't you just quit therapy, get a job and be
productive. Stop living in the past. Don't worry, be happy!" Or, new age belief systems that created
comments like, "These are only your past lives. What you put your attention and focus on grows. I don't
choose to think about negative things. I like to focus on the light instead of the darkness. I create my own
reality. This is not part of my reality. If it's this painful to deal with and causing you this much stress, it
must not be the right thing to do." The list was endless. But over time when these flashbacks and
thoughts intruded into my present life with subjects and events that didn't interest me (politics, glamour
and glitz, golf, baseball games, football games, and sex orgies), I had to wonder and question what it all
meant. That started the quest that has led to my knowing and my understanding. I am hoping you, too,
will be able to overcome your own denial and to question these issues put before you, because the safety
of our children and, yes, even our human freedoms depend on it.

Over time I have had a plethora of responses to the telling of my life history. People have come to
their own conclusions, based on their own belief systems and understanding at the time. Over the years
it has continually pained me to speak publicly, sharing bits and pieces of what happened to me in an
attempt to stop this abuse and gain help for my children and others, only to finish my speech, look
out in the audience and see blank faces. Perhaps many were numbed by the magnitude of the
information I delivered, or thought I had lost my mind instead of finding it. But I can tell you that my
healing came from the one or two loving persons who threw their arms around me after I spoke, and
with tears in their eyes that clearly communicated to me that they understood the magnitude of the what
had happened said, "I am so sorry this happened to you. What can I do?"

Celebrity

Other people have said, "At least you met famous people and had incredible experiences!" In
response, I say that the years of my life that I lived as a mind controlled robot to Bob Hope, Henry
Kissinger and others were not mine, they were stolen from me. I was not consciously present. Those
years were tragically altered and woven with horrific and painful abuse that separated me from my core
self and from the family I love. I have painfully witnessed individuals and society as a whole, hold in a
protective reverence the "media-portrayed persona" of many famous persons. I watched as people in all
walks of life - housewives, ministers, attorneys, newscasters, and professors, etc. - held firmly to their
view of famous people they never personally knew, in order to maintain some sort of fantasy relationship
or belief system they held about these famous persons. People have said to me, "Not Bob Hope, he
wouldn't do these things," and I am left to wonder why they need to hold onto their media-created reality
in lieu of opening their minds and using their spiritual discernment to examine the possibility that what
myself and others are reporting might be true. My controllers, the authors of this plan of enslavement,
are counting on you to believe the media image they have thrust forward. They are counting on you to do
nothing.

Another person said to her husband, "She must have watched too many X-Files!"

I shared that, with the exception of occasionally catching a show at someone else's house while
they had the television on, I haven't watched television since 1989. I have never seen X-Files. But I know
that through media avenues, the authors of the New World Order Plan have been able to very cleverly
hide this reality out in the open.

I'll Do It My Way

I can tell you that if I could only choose my life over again, I would leave all the 'celebrities' out of
it and would live a simple, basic life, enriched with love and deep connection to God and my family. To
me that is where life's richness lies, not in wealth or celebrity status. Wealth and fame have never been
important to me, and thank God, because if I had been attached to the affluent lifestyle I had been living
in California, I never could have chosen to break away and go for my freedom, regardless of the cost. For
me, there is no price tag on freedom and morality: it is priceless.

In the earliest stages of memory breakthrough, when I had flashes of insight of what my husband
and I were involved in, I had moments before my programming kicked in, when I was lucid before I
switched personalities again, in order to try to figure out what to do. There were many times before I left
California and the life I lived with my husband, when I begged him to heal and stand with me. He could
never hear me. Hand in hand on a walk one day, I proposed, "Let's sell the house and spend the money
on our healing; yours, mine and the kids." He couldn't hear of it.

In weeks that followed, he returned home from a conference and said, "They asked us who we
looked up to and I told them, you."

"God help us," was my reply and in total and compete devastation, I realized for the first time in
my life, that I was bankrupt in my marriage, that my husband did not serve the same God that many
parts of me did. I felt alone, frightened and unprotected by the lack of spirituality that I knew could
have guided our lives together.

During times when I devoted endless hours to exercise and nutrition, people have said, "You look
too good to have been through that much trauma," and during periods when my expressed grief has left
me looking pale and haggard, or over or under weight, people have said, "You don't look good enough to
have been used with celebrities."

I was forced to invest in hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of therapy ($300,000+) and
physical therapy (thousands of dollars) in order to heal. All I can say is that it is a miracle that my body is
still intact at all, and I thank God for that. There are telltale signs of the abuse recognizable by those "in
the know," scarred skin from electroshock that left prod marks, and my eyes often look as if something of
an electronic nature has happened to me. But the major ailments I had while in the midst of my mind
control are healed; the migraines are gone, the continual sinus infections, sore throats, breathing
problems and hoarseness that often necessitated the use of an inhaler are gone; no more colitis,
stomachaches and nausea, constant fatigue and body pain. All these symptoms are gone. As my mind
healed and I was able to hold my reality mentally, and as I released the traumas of the past, my body
healed. My healing from this abuse is to God's glory and I know that without seeking and heeding the
Holy Spirit's leading, I never would have made it out. "It is not I, but the Father within me, He does the
works. "--John 14:10.

We Are Called To Love and Forgiveness

Prayerfully and with immense love and compassion, I ask, "Father forgive them for they know not
what they do."--Luke 23:24.

My family and many of our fellow humankind are still locked in the bondage of the mind control
projects and experiments due to the fact that their birth into intergenerational dissociative families, and
their genetic DNA encoding made them capable of advanced abilities for which they have been targeted
for use by those who seek to control. Please help these survivors to freedom and release by donating
whatever you can, even if it is a simple kind word to show you care.

One awareness that weaves through my entire life under mind control is that the love that shone
through from people's spirits, even while under mind control, was never wasted, nor was it ever lost;
indeed, it seemed to be catalogued within me on some higher plane that never goes away. So often, I
witnessed the love of those under mind control who lived among and near me. These creative people, all
full of so much love that, even when I lay the often hurtful mind control abuse experiences side by side
with who I knew in spirit they really were, the love I felt from them often blasted beyond their
programming, allowing their soul essence to shine through. Immense love and inherent behavior of
loving souls, all interwoven with intense agonizing soul pain and tragedy as the mind control technology
and those who created the reality we were programmed to live, manipulated and controlled our inherent
natures, our spiritual life force and the love that lives within us. It is for our controllers and our
perpetrators that I write these words. For many survivors, in our souls, even in physical and mental
programmed bondage, already know the truth. But the world needs to know. The soul is free and LOVE
is lasting. Jesus was right, and he called us to love above all else. He didn't call us to worship power,
monetary gain, or the control of others. He called us to love. He taught us that there was no greater gift
than to lay our life down for a friend, and, He wants His people free. Please help me to help these most
beautiful souls, who have been locked in anguish and bondage, who, from birth have been locked away
from their inherent loving nature, to find the light of day and be freed from the agenda of those who
seek to benefit by robbing their talents and abilities.

And in the final curtain call is the Council actually the old, worn, frazzled Wizard of Oz hiding
behind the curtain, frantic that he has been exposed and defrocked of his power? Those in search of Oz -
Dorothy finding her home and family, the Cowardly Lion finding courage, and the Tin Man finding his
brain - these were the ones who were strong in the end, not the one pulling the strings!
In truth I believe we are all one, and together we can find the answer, if we choose ...Let that
answer be guided by love.

"I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision." --Acts 26:19. "To this end was I born, and for
this cause 1 came to you, that I should witness to the Truth." --John 18:37. "You shall know the Truth
and the Truth will set you free." --John 8:32. "For the Son of man has not come to destroy men's lives,
but to save them." --Luke 9:56. "For 1 have come that they shall have life, and that they might have it
more abundantly." --John 10:10. "I am not alone, because the Father is with Me."--John 16:32. "1 and
the Father are one." --John 10:30.

"For you were called to freedom, brethren; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity
for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another. For the whole of the law if fu flied in one word,
"You shall love your neighbor as yourself." -- Galatians. 5:13-14.

Chapter 36

2009-03-19T12:19:00.001-05:00

Chapter Thirty-six: The Council’s Plan

I began passing messages to and from the Council early on, and in those days my use at that level
had to be earned. On an occasion where I was sent to deliver messages adroitly to a group of men aboard
a ferry in Canada, my reliability and security was finally proven. After the debriefing from that trip,
Henry learned where and how this group would covertly funnel funds into Canada. He clapped, shook
my hand and said, "Congratulations, you've passed this level!"

I didn't 'officially' begin working for the Council until I was 'of age' in 1969, when I turned 18. Up
until then, as I've stated, they were very cautious, watching and testing me from a distance as I
functioned at the White House and in other private settings where one of their contacts could report
back to them my progress. My involvement with them increased over the years as they witnessed my
reliability. I never violated that trust, couldn't think to, and worked amongst them for many years.
Henry was the Council's mastermind and I was his other brain so he could keep the whole plan,
and everyone involved, straight and organized.

One day, a group of powerful men met in a room in the Wrigley Mansion high atop the hill in
Avalon on Catalina Island. I was there supposedly to serve the men beverages and light snacks on silver
platters. Hours before the meeting I was kept in isolation in a side room. Two men in suits injected my
arm with drugs and I was readied, like always, before use. I was dressed in a very expensive white eyelet,
embroidered cotton dress that was provided for me to wear. One man that stands out was a tall man in a
dark pinstriped suit. He had thick white hair and sometimes wore glasses. He was often at these Wrigley
meetings. The meetings seemed very important and secretive.

Afterwards, I had sex with different men I was assigned to. I met with them on private yachts or
rooms in the Wrigley Mansion. Some of them were possessive of my time and didn't realize who I was;
they thought I was just a maid I guess. Some even tried to bribe me with money, jewelry or trips.

Jeff Foltz, Craig's best friend and USC oral surgeon, went with us, on occasion, to Catalina when
these meetings were being held. Craig and I sailed over with Jeff and his wife or flew on seaplanes. Jeff
cued me to different places at the Wrigley Mansion and other sites on Catalina Island. Consciously it
seemed that we were just touring the Mansion with friends, but at certain areas Jeff would say certain
words and press my hand in the middle and say a word or two and then we would walk on. I was a robot
and he talked to me like I was retarded. I followed closely behind Jeff as he walked us through the
Wrigley Estate. It seems like this was done to keep me from consciously remembering being there at the
Estate later on. Jeff took me into rooms that were all beautifully decorated in pastels. He held my hand,
despite the fact that Lisa, his wife, was there. No one really spoke and I felt like a very small child being
taken around by an adult. Of course, at the time my conscious personality wasn't present, so I was not
aware of these events. Later, on this same trip, I went to meetings to assist. At times, Henry was there.
He wasn't in office at the time but to him that only meant he "could do more with his hands less
encumbered," at least that's what he said.

During my use as a tool to coordinate liaisons between the Council and the President, when a
President was flown places, like aboard large military aircraft, I was briefed and sent along so that I
could apprise him of situations or 'key' reasons for his being in certain locations. For example, if the
Council deemed it necessary to control the attitudes of a certain branch of the military in order to have
their 'full cooperation' in a strategic military position or assignment, they would brief me in the complete
attitude required. They would supply me with the correct words for whomever (President, Vice-
President, Bob Hope, etc.) was delivering the speech to the troops. Then the troops would respond
favorably because their programming would be reinforced, creating the desired effect - that is - their
full obedience and cooperation.

I accompanied Nixon, Reagan, Ford, Bush and others in these ways, bringing them information
from the Council. Later, I was debriefed about the results of my time with the President. I also reported
what the skillfully trained parts of me carefully recorded during the entire 'action,' including reporting
back what the President said, how it was received by the audience and any messages the President
wanted to send back to the Council.

As I explained before, the Council is made up of a secret and powerful group of men who are not
public and meet in the shadows. Their true power and ability to rule over the masses comes from the fact
that they are publicly unknown. They exist in their own environments, with little outside contact. But
they have many highly tested, tried and true programmed or aligned individuals who go out and do their
work, bringing back the information they need, making the contacts necessary to insure the success of
their mighty plan for world domination. They have the power to insure the election of a President, to
bring a celebrity to fame, to decide the fate of a nation, to bring about war, to incite riot, to bring down
whole cities or countries, to kill out a certain ethnic race, to introduce a new chemical into the food of the
masses for control, to loose upon a community a new virus, to decide which people are to live and which
are to die. They gave direction to people like Ronald Reagan, George Bush, Henry Kissinger and the
Rockefeller's, but they are not ignorant enough to allow a public identity to make them vulnerable to any
kind of investigation or public knowledge of their lives and their purpose. They seek people out in their
own time; people don't contact them. Sometimes the contact comes in the form of another person
slipping a message in or telling someone to be at a certain place at a specified time, but their
whereabouts is not ever known. And to report this to you, I had to dismantle lots of death programming
that was installed in an attempt to keep me from remembering any of this.

Geneva

There were times when the Council met in Geneva and I was taken there so they could send
information and messages, via my mind files, to people who weren't supposed to be publicly connected
with them. All this cross communication was sent safely through me and no one would have suspected
who I was or what type of secret information I contained. Henry usually put the information in my head
and sent me in with instructions - usually amusing ones - to the men at the meetings in Geneva and
other places. These men don't just want to control the world; they already do that to a certain extent.

The rules the Council had between its contacts was that they were never to have physical contact,
or talk by telephone. They decided where a message would be posted, via cryptic codes that only they
understood, and often placed them in a certain section of the newspaper. Like for instance, they would
weave the place and time of a meeting into the business investment section if one had to be called on
short notice. Otherwise meetings were set up ahead of time and there was no contact in between. In
cases of emergency or crisis they could use someone like me to deliver secretly coded messages. The men
they are networked into are some of the most powerful businessmen in the world - steel magnates,
furriers, oil and gas company owners, telephone company owners, media owners, munitions makers,
among others - and their business dealings are highly illegal. They break all the rules and laws set up to
protect small businesses from monopolies. They create huge monopolies. They control the world through
the economy. Most people who opposed them didn't have a chance. They simply ran them out of
business, got them prosecuted legally, or manipulated them in any way that was successful to insure they
maintained total control.

Secret Rendezvous in the Pacific

During the late 70's and early 80's the Council often met out in the middle of the ocean,
aboard yachts, where they could all come together anonymously. They sailed or motored around until
they connected with each member. They navigated to precise areas where a yacht would be waiting.

Everyone had to be expert navigators and Craig's dental friend, Jeff, was just that. He constantly read a
complex nautical map with special tools and combined that information with the placement of the stars
in the sky in order to deliver me to a preplanned destination. He had to navigate to different places
around the Channel Islands to areas we were supposed to go to. I was usually the first to be picked up by
the yacht the Council was to meet on, because I was the least important and they didn't want to waste
these important men's time. The captain pulled us in close, side-by-side, and the member aboard the
other yacht would leave his yacht and come aboard. Each man was picked up in this way. There were
usually three or four rendezvous after they picked me up. The men never arrived on the same yachts but
used different vessels and crews so as not to ever be identified. Once every member was picked up they
met in the largest room on board ship, and I was brought in to sit at the table during certain junctures
when they wanted to send a message back to the President, foreign leaders, etc. This way later, I just
delivered the message to whomever they directed me, usually during sex, and so everything remained
anonymous.

Reagan was a big receiver of messages during his presidency. I was kept very busy delivering to
him and he 'followed' orders to a 'T.' The group was "very pleased with his performance," were the words
they used. Pete Wilson was the same way and so was George Bush. Anyway, the Council met on board
yachts, had meetings, and then were navigated back to planned areas. They never met in the same place
twice and everything was done with precision. That was one of their favorite words -"PRECISION"- and
they always had the very best of everything. They even had "the chessboard" on board. They showed me
one move each time and I was instructed to watch VERY CAREFULLY because there was no room for a
mistake. Later I delivered the move on the chess board to Henry in New York. The chess move was
ALWAYS taken back to Henry.

Disguises To Protect Kissinger

Henry literally built me so I could be a safe arm to reach out and touch the Council. I flew to New
York regularly in the 70's and 80's. Just a quick trip to deliver the information to Henry. He had various
and sundry disguises for me that he used to protect himself. A man in a suit always picked me up at the
airport in a limo and gave me a bag. I knew to go to the restroom and change into everything in the bag,
which included clothes, shoes, wig, teeth overlays, make up, purse, everything I needed was there. Craig
had made me several sets of maxillary and mandibular overlays that I could just snap onto my teeth. I
looked totally different and the switch was to be total and complete when I looked at my image in the
mirror. "Become the image," Henry told me. So I changed my face, my voice, my walk; everything I was
told to alter, in order to fit the image. I took the bag filled with my clothes back to the man in the limo
and he put it in the front seat next to him and escorted me into the backseat. After I switched
personalities and dress, he closed the glass window between the seats and never had conversation with
me from that time on. He let me out at Henry's office, which was a large, older, very cultured building
and someone escorted me right to Henry's office.

I sat down in an upholstered chair across from Henry's dark wooden desk. He snapped his fingers
and ran his hand before my face to ready me for debriefing. I told him what the Council advised and the
final message was the Chess move. He was very anxious to get that and always had me double-check the
information so there wouldn't be any miscommunication. I was programmed that it wasn't possible for
me to ever make a mistake.

After I delivered the information to Henry, he walked me to the door and gave me a small piece of
folded paper to give the driver. I think it may have had my airline instructions on it or something. For
some reason I never flew with a round trip ticket, and always had the return flight booked under a
different name than the one I used on the initial leg of the trip. The driver gave me the special bag
that now had all my original clothes in it, and I would go back into the public restroom and change. Then
he took me back to the airport in New York and I'd fly to LAX. Usually my Mom or Craig would pick me
up. It was a long trip but didn't seem like it because I was programmed to sleep. They were always proud
that the precision was so good that I could be back within 24 hours or less. Somehow they 'folded' that
amount of time and I never missed it. My assignments often began or culminated on Friday or Saturday
night but usually I was home by Saturday. These meetings with Henry usually took place at the end of
the work week. He liked to have the information delivered to him at that time because he would have the
weekend to mull it over, undisturbed and uninterrupted by any other business. He said, "That's the
secret to my success-FOCUS," then he would smile and take a cigar out of a case on the table. He also
had a separate apartment away from home where he did his best thinking and strategizing. I met with
him there, also, but always had to do the disguise routine before I met him anywhere.

When I returned home I was programmed to have cheese Danish to 're-mind' me to forget. Even
when I was having therapy sessions with Stuart Perlman, I was programmed to have cheese Danish on
the mornings I had therapy sessions with Stuart by phone. I was also cleverly programmed to misdial
Stuart's phone number by one number. Every time I dialed his number I would get frustrated and
wonder why I kept dialing the wrong number, and every time it was the same wrong number I dialed. My
controllers had me dialing a number that contained a code to remind me to maintain security. During
this period, I often met with Henry or others, so the Danish was the 'icing on the cake,' and served to
make sure I didn't ever remember. I was still meeting with Henry when I was in therapy with both Stuart
and Margie. My controllers told me they were trying to shore me up so I would make it to the end of my
job in the year 2000.

Jaws

My job was to be over in the year 2000, and programmed parts of me were told that I was to be
shot in the head and dropped overboard out in the middle of the Pacific where no one would ever miss
me, including the sharks. In order to impress me, they made me watch shark-feeding frenzies. One time
after Craig and I returned from a long weekend sail and scuba diving trip, another dentist friend of ours
came over and said, "You weren't scuba diving in the Channel Islands this weekend, were you? They were
having shark contests and were chumming the whole area!"

Shark themes were used heavily, and I was continually reminded by the Shark diver's wristwatch
that I was given to wear.

My job as a go-between from the Council to others was my most important task. Bob was 'my
owner' and Henry masterminded their plan, but the Council always called the ultimate shots. They said I
was theirs until, "the end of time," and that time for me was supposed to be the year 2000. Then they
said I could sleep with the fishes. Deep inside I couldn't wait until it was over.

Although the Council didn't ever meet on the same yachts, when they did meet, there often was an
aquarium on board with sharks in it that was used to remind me what would happen if I stepped out of
line. Craig and I had previously been directed to the big theatre with the stars on the ceiling on Catalina
Island to watch James Bond movies. I constantly gazed upward at those stars per programmed
instructions to, "look at the stars to be safe and forget."

I also was made to watch while a man in a suit threw an attendant into the shark aquarium when
it was feeding time. He said to the man, "You wouldn't mind standing in for the fish this morning so this
young lady can see what her fate is if she steps out of line?" The attendant looked at him quizzically and
then the suited man threw him into the tank and quickly poured a pan of fish and blood all over the poor
man in the water. The sharks went right for him. He screamed and flailed his arms but it didn't last long.

It was horrific and terrifying. The suited man looked me in the eye, and in a very quiet, soothing tone
of voice said, "There, see what happens if you step out of line?"
"Yes, I see," I agreed, wholeheartedly.

This type of life and death terror tactic is enough to dissociate a person for a very long time,
especially if they are under mind control. This shark theme ran throughout my victimization. After my
children were born, we were at a theme park and all donned wet suits to swim with the fish; some were
even small sharks. Danny and Kevin were even given small rubber sharks in order to remember the
experience. The message was always the same, "Step out of line, you will be fed to the sharks." By now
they probably only need to use virtual reality traumas.

Kauai Central Location

I was relocated on Kauai because it was a remote area with easier access to me, unencumbered by
my family. It was a two-year phase. Then they didn't have to coordinate things so carefully between us
all. I was free to go on their assignments and I was used heavily. They flew me to New York, England,
South of France, Italy (Rome), the Netherlands, even Catalina and the Channel Islands, except now I was
helicoptered to the yachts and tethered in on a chair. Often it was a two-seater helicopter, the 'glass
bubble' type. The helicopter pilot seemed connected to the yacht as they radioed to coordinate the
rendezvous with precision. When I lived on Kauai I was taken directly from the meetings of the Council
to Henry, going through the whole disguise bit, and then returned to the island. I was usually gone two
days (48 hours) or less, and when I returned I slept a lot because I had been without sleep or food and
the time difference caused jet lag. Although, they tried everything to nullify the jet lag so I could, as they
called it, "re-emerge into my life without stress or strain."

While I was on Kauai I even was reunited with Kelly (who still lived in California with her father)
in England and France to "sexulate" some members in the royal family and a violent leader in France.
Kelly has personalities that speak French, also. It was necessary for both of us to know French in order to
communicate with this man. Kelly was trained to step into my shoes in the year 2000 and take over and I
was supposed to give her a diamond ring to make this an initiation.

Further Council Adventures

I was programmed with personalities to emulate Jackie Kennedy's charm and dignity. Aristotle
Onassis was a powerful arm of the Council, with the ability to move business holdings around. The
Council poured money into these businesses and used people like Onassis as a front, since they had to
remain anonymous. That was how they used a lot of business tycoons. The men who operated
independently were the most ideal since they could maneuver without the oversight of a large
corporation or business partners. Some of the richest entrepreneurs in the world were used this way and
I was sent into them to have sex and deliver Council messages. I met with many of these men in the open
seas on yachts for anonymity and security.

I also was rendezvoused with Reagan and Bush out in the middle of the Pacific during Reagan's
Presidency. They were on separate yachts, and met with me during a three-day sailing trip with the
Foltz's. Jeff Foltz secretly brought the drugs necessary for my use on board the sailing vessel we rented
for sailing trips. Ile also brought electronic equipment, including a black box with wires that he hooked
us up to; all three of us, his wife, my husband and myself, for programming. This happened before and
after I was used. He probably got his 'tune up' before the sail.

The Council worked Reagan and Bush a lot, giving them instructions. Reagan went along blindly
while Bush seemed to know more but not as much as Henry. I always slept with Reagan on the yacht he
was on and then delivered the message to him. I was delivered to Reagan and Bush as Jeff navigated to a
precise destination and when we came alongside their vessel I crossed 'over the rainbow' as I came on
board. Sometimes I spent the entire night sleeping with Reagan after I had delivered the message
because, he said he would, "prefer company while out in the middle of the lonely Pacific." So I stayed,
and the next morning Jeff came back and picked me up and transferred me back.

As soon as I got on board, Jeff immediately stun gunned me in the back. My husband and Jeff's
wife stayed down in the kitchen until Jeff finished with me, which meant drugs and the use of the black
box. In later years, instead of an injection, the drug was a circular, oral wafer, like a small water chestnut.
Then Jeff would announce to our spouses, "Time for lunch!" and they would start preparing lunch. After
we ate, I would go take a very long nap or lay out on the deck and sleep while we sailed to our next
destination. We often moored for the night in three separate areas; all strategically mapped and
navigated so I would be in place for the rendezvous. I always felt so out of it after these events and
consciously felt embarrassed that I was too tired or couldn't think to communicate with our friends. Now
I know why.

Certain members of the American Dental Association have been heavily involved in this project
and many of the people from USC Dental School that Craig knew. Uncle Charlie made Craig's way into
USC, because Craig needed to be part of the project so he and Jeff could be "prepared," to ready me for
use at the highest levels with the Council. The Council stepped up their plans beginning in 1980 and on
into the 90's. Then it was supposed to be "clear sailing," as their plans snowballed and they began
reaping what had been earlier sown. Until in the year 2000, when they would be able to cinch the purse
strings shut, thus, being totally in charge of everything worldwide. But things didn't go exactly according
to plan, especially regarding my situation.

The Frontiers of the Mind

They began to target more heavily, and more often, people that had been put in place over the
years. They were bombarding them, certain individuals more heavily than others, depending on their
usefulness and power potential. People like Onassis, Iacocca and the Rockefellers who were part of 'level
two,' and others. Anyone who made big money was targeted. The Council was apprised of the wealthy,
and people like Henry went to great lengths to strategize how those with wealth could be brought into
their game for the highest effect or benefit to the cause. The Council saw this as a huge game to attain
total and absolute power by the dawning of the next century-the Age of Aquarius. As an Aquarian I was
told I was heralding the advancement of the planet-the global transformation to a new way of life
through advanced technologies.

They plan to "market" the mind/brain technologies they themselves have been using for decades,
to the general public, and are doing so already. This will allow them to make mega money in this new
market as well as allow them to begin to educate the masses in regard to the new technologies of the
mind, "The Frontiers of the Mind." But, while the public is spending vast sums of money on this new
technology, they will also be conditioned through advanced forms of electronics, harmonics, and
subliminal conditioning to accept this shift to a 'new existence.' The Council plans are to have a robotical
working class that won't cause any problems, but will simply work to supply the needs of the Elite-those
who by their breeding and intellect are deemed worthy of being allowed to be "awake" so they can rule,
live and create without any interference from the common man. They say that the working class already
makes non-thinking robots of their own everyday lives, and it might as well be more planned and
regulated so that others who want to create, invent, and otherwise use their minds, can do so without
hindrance from the common man.

They view the "common man" with great disdain as a lower form of the human species. And they
figure that by the time the year 2000 rolls around, when the purse cinches shut, and they are in full
control, that people will already be sufficiently conditioned and won't even be able to think to figure out
or even be aware that a change has taken place. They see it as the perfect cover up for the continuation of
the experiments in mind control they have participated in and feel very assured that the public will never
be able to discover what happened because the more intelligent pubic has been sufficiently "tamed"
and conditioned to go along with the rest of the herd.

Society is being weeded out right now, as minority species are being eliminated very specifically
by biological germ warfare and other tactics meant to insure the elimination of those less genetically
favorable. They figure with the reduction of the population there will be sufficient natural resources for
the working class robots to support the genetically astute intellectuals who will be in power. Then, this is
supposed to lead into a new age of peace. They even unleashed New Age principles to target and control
the groups of people they previously programmed while they continued developing the mind control
technology, in order to maintain control until the year 2000 when, supposedly, no one would be able to
think to question or cause problems.

Our food is being tampered with, by the insertion of food additives and substances like aspartame
which can alter brain chemistry and affect our minds. Music and movies are another powerful tool used
to condition the masses. The Council views these measures as the kind, humane way to handle this
matter, instead of a direct violent takeover, which would just cause even more chaos and human
suffering. They envisioned that, this way, there would be no dissent and after the takeover there will be
no need for wars, ever again. These men don't believe in wars, but needed to use them to achieve their
goals. As they see it, the rest of the species will be living in harmony, able to create and enjoy while the
lower, now robotical, forms of the human species do all the grunt work they are accustomed to: common
labor, food production, and life maintenance for the higher forms of human species, the intellectuals,
those who matter and are deemed eligible to be awake.

The Master Plan is Accomplished by Robots

There has been a master plan for years and many, including myself, were involuntarily enlisted to
work for it, as Dr. Henry Kissinger, 'Mr. Global Internationalist,' masterminded much of their plan. My
controllers viewed anyone with a small intellect as 'non-existing' anyway, so they will either be weeded
out or retained on the mind-controlled work force that's already been created. Masses of daycare centers
were targeted to insure the success of the takeover, where large numbers of children from normal
families were programmed because they will be the ones who will be of the age to resist or fight the
Council plan. But now, many won't be able to because their minds have been manipulated and
conditioned during childhood, so they will go along with the global program. It is all a carefully laid out
plan that has spanned decades and generations, with one generation handing down to the next their
inheritance. The children of the elite families, such as the Rockefeller's and Kennedy's will inherit a
guaranteed future on a planet that can survive due to the fact that the population and, in turn, pollution,
food supplies, etc. will be totally controlled. These intellectual, genetically 'worthy' individuals plan to
have their own guaranteed 'utopian dreamworld' after they kill off the inferior human species that they
believe are overcrowding a planet that cannot support us all. The Council feels that they are insuring the
future of the species of mankind by what they are doing. And, those from intergenerational ritually
abused families and others will be placed under total mind control, to become the planetary 'workforce'
so the elite doesn't have to waste their precious time on menial labor. The Council feels everyone 'wins'
this way because it puts the non-thinking and genetically inferior populations "out of their misery," by
taking their minds away, and insures a glorious future for the brightest intellects on earth. To them
intellect is everything and without it, they think people shouldn't be allowed to waste precious time on
earth, taking up space for those who can and will use their brains to create. They view this as a massive
genetic clean up.

Then, when their agenda has been met, the world will be free from ignorance and chaos.
According to their reasoning, there will be no abortion issue because the genetically intelligent won't
bear children by accident. There will be no wars because they won't have a need to use wars to
manipulate people for power or money. There will be no famines because there will be plenty of food
grown naturally by the robot class and the world will no longer be overpopulated. Then, they can
bring in their new form of world government and there won't be fighting or resistance because the Elite
will see eye-to-eye and will all benefit, and are intellectually capable of understanding how they can all
work together for the benefit of themselves. Crime will cease since the commoners, 'the robots' won't be
able to think to commit acts of violence or any other forms of crime. The Elite think of themselves as
intellectually above petty crime and will have no necessity of it since they will be getting their needs met,
royally, by all of their mind-controlled 'worker-bees.' No more disease will be brought in by the
'unwashed' lower classes. So there will be less disease all-around because the Elite will take immaculate
care of their bodies and won't have to deal with the stress and strain created by the problems of today.
These will have been eliminated by eliminating the source of these problems-the genetically deficient.

The Council has guaranteed survival and freedom for those at the top. What they have done to the
human species in this Twentieth Century is tragic and they justify it by the rationale that they are
protecting the future of the human species by insuring that only the best specimens survive.

The Council took a serious stand to clean up the environment as it served their needs for a
healthy, pollution-free, life-sustaining environment for their future progeny. Since they have access to, as
well as direct, major new discoveries in advanced technologies, they have disdain for the uneducated,
ignorant, common people who trash their own environment. They said that even animals knew better
than to defecate in their own sleeping area. But this would be remedied in the future when the
genetically deficient were weeded out and extinguished.

They also were very condescending to those individuals who didn't eat properly or exercise. They
take immaculate care of their bodies as far as health goes. They are fit and trim and they use natural
medicines. The American Medical Association is fashioned to prescribe drugs and perform various
treatments that although they may be unsuspecting, tend to weed out the weaker species. The Council
views the AMA's 'modern medicine' as barbaric. Their plans are to have mind-enhanced health
associates, like some of the USC medical and dental graduates, who will provide the new health care for
the Elite, after the takeover. Precision surgery with laser technology will make the so-called "modern
methods" of surgery obsolete. Miracle medicines and herbs (God's pharmacy) will keep the body healthy.

An understanding of the way the electro-molecular energy field around the body operates will allow the
healthy body to be kept in perfect alignment creating perpetual perfect health or it can be brought back
into alignment easily with the use of high-tech field variation equipment. This will be the modern
medicine of the future and upcoming doctors will be trained in these methods in order to further the
evolution of the Elite. The Elite plan to enjoy total and complete health due to their technology in
electromagnetic fields. They also have antibodies against the diseases they let loose and make sure they
are protected. Of course all of these findings came about by research and experiments on unsuspecting
groups of people.

The health care program they were attempting to implement in the United States was one they
were hoping would though so that the lower class robots would have a health care system to serve their
needs in the future, while allowing the government, the Council and those involved in the global takeover
to remain in control. As you can see, it is a system designed for control. It is all about further
conditioning the populace so that there won't be any drastic changes that would cause stress to the
nation or upset the apple cart.

They believe they have learned what form of government would work best by installing different
varieties of governments in different countries with leaders they chose, studied, and watched to see
which form would be likely to meet their needs in the year 2000 and beyond. They saw different national
governments as 'projects.' For awhile, they thought communism would be the best, until the mind
control technology showed them they could covertly rule the masses without communism. With this
technology, they believe they can rule the masses easily and effortlessly, and governing can be limited
because they feel all of the Elite will have much the same wants, needs, and goals. They already have the
central banking system in place and have a master plan for the laws, rules, and regulations that will
govern those that are left.

Sons of the Elite are conditioned to be leaders in the New World. Robotic mind control won't be
necessary for their compliance. They have been conditioned to accept this new agenda without being
given all the information and will be allowed to be "free thinkers," unless they don't follow directions.
The Elite are used to having servants so this overall concept is not especially different for them because
they have been brought up to believe that they are born privileged, are of a superior genetic strain and
have a responsibility to lead. I was used, under mind control, to further many of these attitudes with the
sons of many world figures. It was just a matter of conditioning them with the beliefs, a little at a time,
which would support the changeover. The egos of these young men have been very carefully created and
conditioned. Prince Charles' boys are possibly doomed to the same form of conditioning.

The Council sees this as a planetary enhancement, with the globe entering a time of health, new
excitement, and abundance for those deemed capable of making a difference in the future of the human
species.

"And I saw an new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed
away; and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God,
prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice from heaven saying, Behold, the
tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and the very
God shall be with them and be their God; And he shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there
shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor wailing, neither shall there be anymore pain; for the former
things have passed away. And he who sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. Then he
said to me, Write; for these are the trustworthy and true words of God. And he said to me, I am the alpha
and the omega, the beginning and the end. I will freely give of the fountain of living water to him who is
thirsty. He who overcomes shall inherit these things; and I will be his God, and be shall be my son." --
Revelation 21:1-7

Chapter 35

2009-03-04T12:25:00.002-06:00

What's the Secret Goal at the Top of Freemasonry?

Answer: A Luciferian New World Order

Living in and amongst those planning the New World Order as their programmed mind file,
meticulously recording their deeds and activities, has allowed me to be here now to report their plan to
you. Their agenda includes keeping the populations of the world under control as they hold the key to
secret knowledge. Knowledge is power. If you are uninformed as to their secret agenda and especially of
their use of advanced mind control technology in order to bring about their plan, then you can't protect
yourself or begin to work toward stopping this plan.

If there is any one thing I could tell you about the inner workings of the New World Order it's that
it is subtle, organized and calculated. This plan has an agenda that spans generations with obvious longterm
goals--as long term as the intergenerational abuse pattern that was passed down through my family
creating within our generational line Multiple Personality Disorder.

And, I can tell you that the New World Order plan serves a belief system that is based on power
and control, confusion, greed, and the use and manipulation of others, most often without their consent.
The system's "cogs" are well oiled and greased, and are interlaced and protected by mens' secret societies
like the Masons, who have at the pinnacle of their organization a belief in secret knowledge. The Masonic
order is funded from the bottom up by first through third degree Masons, hoodwinked and mesmerized
into working for the agenda of those members at the top-an agenda they work "toward" knowing but
they aren't allowed to know until they arrive at the top through oath and initiation to possess the elusive
"secret knowledge."

Found in Morals and Dogma, the cornerstone of every higher Mason's library, in the 32°d Chapter
(Sublime Prince of the Royal Secret) are subtle hints of the character of this 'secret knowledge,'
specifically geared toward the 32°d Degree Mason (Master of the Royal Secret). Here, in the guise of
acknowledging a Universal Equilibrium between good and evil, as the natural balance and harmony of
earthly existence, it promotes the acceptance of the belief that evil actions are a necessary counterbalance
to good ones and asks the aspirant to accept this dichotomy in human affairs. From this sublime
seed of half-truth, evil is allowed flourish within the protective secrecy of the organization.

To gain this knowledge, a man must go through a series of Luciferian initiations and, as he
progresses toward the top, he finds that he is trapped into keeping the secret, through threat of
consequences, including death. Once gaining the upper levels, he believes that he or his family will be
killed if he should ever divulge the secret knowledge. This initation where he is ultimately compromised
involves blood ritual and rape. Now many of these men have had to "sell their soul to the devil," taking
an oath through satanic ritual to serve and protect their fellow lodge brother regardless of the deeds
done in order to accomplish that. Through the secret handshakes and signals they give to each other,
they alert one another to the needs of a brother and thereby this fellow member who may be in court for
charges of criminal activity, or apprehended by the police for breaking the law, is protected by his
"brother." It may be a judge, who when a case is presented before him, sees a brother in trouble, and
looks the other direction, allowing the lodge brother to go free or with light sentencing. Or, it may be an
attorney who finds himself unable through the court system to really "defend" his client, as he secretly
serves the system in which he is oath bound. Often in court cases throughout the legal system, children
who are sexually or physically abused are sent back to live with a perpetrating parent while the other
parent seeking protection of their child is sent away, alone and powerless to do anything to protect their
child. All this happens because a judge or an attorney is part of an organization that has at its very
foundation, protection of its members, right or wrong, and sometimes protection at all costs.

Are you aware that many of our Presidents have been Masons? In fact, the majority have. This
means that they have taken an oath to serve their organization and the brothers who belong, without
question, even above and beyond God and country. Instead of justice we have camaraderie. Instead of
protecting citizens, especially our youngest ones, we have a system of individuals who serve each other,
blindly I might add, without question of right or wrong, good or bad, without consideration for the
Constitution and the high spiritual ideals set forth for our country. We have instead a "boys club," where
many men join in order to belong, to be a part of a group that they may believe furthers civic interest,
financial gain, and offers security.

Our nation is undermined by this group that operates in the dark, shrouded by secrecy and
serving to protect their fellow lodge members above all else-including truth and justice. A man cannot
serve the Lodge and at the same time serve God, for the good Lord calls us to love one another, to uphold
one another, to love and serve our fellow humans, to protect and love the children, and cause no harm.
This Masonic Order, this secret men's society, as harmless as it may seem to it's members teeming at the
bottom, demands an oath to allegiance over truth, brotherhood over justice, and it often serves a need to
protect a man's financial assets. There is no way a man can choose God's values when he is bound by an
oath to protect and defend his fellow lodge member without question. Even if a first-degree lodge
member doesn't find himself "called upon" to protect a brother, he is still serving a master at the top of
the pinnacle, without knowledge of what the top directors-the 32°d and 33rd Degree Masons--are doing.
Yet these worker bees at the bottom fuel the deeds and goals of those brothers at the top, who possess
the secret knowledge, and use that secret knowledge. I can tell you from personal experience of being
there, that it is not of God but is evil in nature. It seeks control for power and ultimately it wreaks havoc
and destruction upon the innocents that may be in its path.

A man cannot serve two masters. Those who are Masons are taught secret handshakes and hand
signals that pass secretly between members without outsiders' knowledge that a subversive agenda is
occurring, right there before the public's eyes. This secret communication between lodge brothers
guarantees that the members are protected. But I guarantee you that unless a brother rises through the
ranks, he won't find out that what he is supporting at the top of the organization he has sworn allegiance
to, is the highest evil known to man. To possess this secret knowledge, men allow their morality and
conscience to be stripped away; they have to, because the secret knowledge has to do with bringing in the
New World Order through atrocity that comes with power and control, certainly not love and service. It
is pure evil, shrouded in secrecy, and masked as a service organization. It's quite the opposite, as the
many emerging victims of satanic rituals at the hands of high-ranking Masons and Shriners will attest to.

If you are currently a Mason, you may want to know that the secret knowledge at the top of your
organization entails the ritualized abuse of young women who are raped on an altar as part of an
initiation process. I know because I was there. It happened to me. I was taken to outdoor places in the
50's and 60's and subjected to satanic rituals performed by various men's fraternal societies, including
the Masons and Shriners. I have also known and listened to other women who were healing from this
mind control abuse, whose father's were Masons and through that affiliation came to be young members
of Job's Daughters or the Eastern Star, and were healing from the mind control abuse they suffered in
secret.

"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on
earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with might
through his Spirit in the inner man, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you,
being rooted and grounded in love, may have the power to comprehend with all the saints what is the
breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge,
that you may be filled with all the fullness of God." -- Ephesians 3:14

Chapter 34

2009-01-17T12:00:00.001-06:00

Here she begins to be broken free by God...it is a very long chapter but worthwhile. This is part of the reason why I do not like Sly Stallone.

Chapter Thirty-four: Excuse Me, I Would Like My Life Back

As parts of my personality tried to break free, there were many, many attempts to bring me back
into the fold; all of which included torture and trauma. In an attempt to understand what was wrong
with me, I began reading every technical book I could get my hands regarding Multiple Personality
Disorder. In the 80's, there wasn't much written. As I read I recognized symptom similarities but didn't
seem to fit the mold of the 'garden variety' version of MPD, caused by abuse without programming. My
search for the truth was unceasing.

Desert Hot Springs

Between 1985 and 1990 my husband and I often went to Two Bunch Palms, a spa resort in Desert
Hot Springs, which is a neighboring desert city bordering Palm Springs. Craig and I would go for a few
days to rest in the mineral pools and utilize the luxurious massage therapy and green clay facemasks that
were a part of the resort's celebrity reputation. Once before I went, I watched a King Arthur video and
when a shaft of white light shown down on the oracle as he kneeled to deliver a message from God to the
king, I began crying and knew at once I needed to go to Two Bunch, alone. Witnessing this, my husband
said, "Fine, it's okay. Just go. Do what you need to, honey." I left immediately. Arriving at Two Bunch in
the dark around 10 o'clock at night, I was terribly afraid, but didn't know why.

"Two Bunch" as we referred to it, was a 'double edge sword' where I was accessed by Bob Hope
and a group of men, including the Council. At the same time I was receiving intense bodywork from
professional practitioners, which helped shake loose memories at a cellular level, other dedicated parts
of my personality structure who were skilled to withstand torture and humiliation continued to do so on
an increased level so that I could continue therapy and healing. I prayed daily for the Holy Spirit to bring
to mind those things that needed healing in the perfect time frame, and that is just what occurred. These
personalities cooperated over the years of my battle for freedom by absorbing the threats and abuse and,
in addition, kept it separate from my conscious mind so I could continue my quest for freedom,
unencumbered by fear or resistance. After an intense session with a gentle little old man who was an
expert in Trager bodywork, my memories began to increase. During the same visit, I was instructed to
attend secret meetings at Two Bunch where I stood back while a group of men talked. My husband was
seldom there. I believe one meeting was "The Palm Springs Civic Committee." Bob golfed with them and
they had business dealings together.

There were times I was picked up in the parking lot by a silver limo and taken to Bob. Sometimes I
wouldn't even get out of the limo; I'd wait for Bob and he would enter to direct me. Other times I would
spend the day with him. One night I was directed to a bunch of palm trees late at night to look for the
White Owl. Bob Hope ended up being the White Owl I was looking for. At the time, I was unaware that
this was a program. I walked outside into the late night breezes to report to the Palm Trees and to Bob,
the White Owl.

Late on another night at Two Bunch, in a nightmarish reminiscence of the movie, Stepford Wives,
that I had been required to watch years before, I robotically responded to programming as I trekked out
to the parking lot in the white robe provided by the spa. A limo pulled up and mindlessly I climbed inside
where a man immediately injected me with a drug. When we arrived at a big warehouse-type building in
the desert that was like a robot reconditioning facility, the man had to help me out of the limo because I
was so drugged. Once inside, doctors in surgical greens placed me on a gurney and started an IV. It may
have been filled with a truth serum drug, because that is the type of questions they fielded me. They were
trying to identify what I was doing in therapy, what I was remembering. Repositioning me to a chair,
they slapped me over and over and I wasn't allowed to go to sleep. If I began to fall asleep, they slapped
me again. They were very upset about the therapy and told me lots of lies while they made me look
into bright white lights. If I didn't keep my eyes open long enough, they would hold my eyes open and
face me directly into the bright lights. They kept injecting my arm, as they yelled at me.

A man, approximately 35 years old, dark-skinned with brown hair, wearing a green tie, tan tweed
jacket, white shirt and tan pants, entered the room. He directed the doctors what to do and told them
what he wanted to find out, then they supplied the drugs, electroshock and lights. Returned to a metal
gurney, he asked me questions over and over that didn't make sense to me, while I sat on the edge of the
gurney with my head hanging down, totally out of it. He showed me pictures of people, men usually, and
asked me questions about them and kept slapping me. Parts of my personality system would not comply
and talk to him and it was making him very angry. In response, he took something sharp to the bottom of
my feet. Then he called in the bright lights, and when my eyes could no longer stay open as he
commanded, he had another man hold my head up, prop my eyes open and direct the lights in my eyes.
They kept this up for what felt like forever. Then he laid me down and put a long rod up my vagina to
shock me as he said, "She'll talk, just give her time - we have all the time in the world."

But I was dissociated deep within myself and really didn't care if they killed me or not. I had been
conditioned from birth to take what they dished out and if I died, I just wouldn't have to endure any
more. No more suffering, it would be over. His frustration level saturated, this man instructed his
assistants to lay me down and they took an electric sheer, the type you use to clip a dog, or prep a person
for surgery and ran it up my pubic hair, up my stomach, all the way up to my chin. He said it was
something to remember him by, "To keep remembering what happens if you don't comply."

After I'd given up and was "gone" they pulled a plastic cap dotted with little metal electrodes over
my head. They told me over and over that they would make it much easier on me if I would just
cooperate and quit therapy. But I didn't stop. They had to carry me out to the limo and when we arrived
back at Two Bunch, the man accompanying me snapped his fingers in my ear and commanded, "Snap
out of it!" and followed up with the suggestion that I was very, very tired and wanted a nap. Slowly, I
trudged back to the room and went to sleep. I don't know where Craig was.

Desert Hot Springs was a place of horror for me as I attempted to get well by working hard in
therapy with Stuart and Margie. I remember Stuart saying to me after I continued to show up day after
day with more pieces of my painful past to process in therapy, "I have never seen anyone who is more
motivated than you; it's like you're running a marathon."

I responded, "I don't feel like I'm doing this fast enough." No wonder - neither he nor I
consciously knew that I was still being tortured and reprogrammed; reporting to the Federal Building, to
UCLA, to my political abusers and to Bob Hope when assigned. Consciously, I thought Two Bunch Palms
was a place where I went to get rejuvenated to do more abreactive work in order to recover. But even in
the midst of the chaos there was a divine plan and timing to my life; I just had to be extremely patient.

As my healing defiance continued, I was returned to Two Bunch. One night I got dressed to go eat
in the restaurant. There was a very large clock that hung over the entrance of the restaurant and my
instructions were to, "walk to the clock at 6 o'clock." But instead of going inside, I was instructed to turn
and walk to the parking lot where a man in a white suit drove me by limo late at night to a club. He took
me inside and seated me in a maroon colored booth tucked away in the darkened club. Sonny Bono came
out and told me to enter the cleared area. He was twirling a whip like he was going to lasso something.
Then he cracked the whip. He did it over and over and it terrified me, because I felt he was going to hit
me with it. Sonny said there was nobody there to hear my screams. "Scream all you like," he said
laughing. Jokingly he added, "I kinda like it." He went on to explain that he was "giving me what I
deserved for trying to break the mold."

I was helped up off the floor where I was huddled and delivered to a group of men in suits.
They said I was the guest of honor, but it wasn't fun. They said I was stirring up a bit of trouble back
there in Southern California and they just wanted to make sure that nothing bad happened to me. They
took a long time to tell me all this, slowly, calmly and smoothly, before another man took me to a
dressing room type of partition in a back room and, holding me up by one arm, threw me up against the
wall and beat the living breath out of me. I ended up in a heap on the floor with my mouth bleeding.
Giving me one final kick with his pointed boot, he said, "There, that ought to do ya."

Another suited man came in and began "taking care of me," he said, while he took pictures of me
all beat up to send to my family and friends, and he told me over and over, things that didn't make sense
to me like, "You are a queen. You will always be a queen; you have no successor so you must always
remain the queen. It's a matter of privilege; you must remain the queen." His last instruction was, "Lay
by the pool and get a tan," that I was going to be visited by "the man." I knew the man he spoke of was
Bob Hope.

After I was returned and spent the next day recuperating and tanning by the pool, I was picked up
again. On the way to see Bob they said my clothes weren't suitable to see him so they stopped at a dress
shop in the Springs and one of the suits went in with me and picked out white slacks, a yellow shirt, a
gold belt and sandals. Throwing my clothes in the trash he said, "these are more befitting."
We met Bob in a public place. I was taken to him and he broke free for a moment and came over
to me, "Tsk, tsk, is this anyway for a woman to be showing a good example to her offspring?" He was
referring to my attempts at freedom.

To further frighten and intimidate me, he pulled a picture out of his coat pocket of Kelly and I
naked together and said, "The time will come my fairy princess to speak of better things," and he
continued, finally commenting that he needed to, "teach me appreciation." Roughly, he took hold and
squeezed my collar then abruptly let it go and walked away, like he was through with me. Unfortunately,
he wasn't. I was taken back to Two Bunch where I left the new clothes in a massage room and returned to
my room with another white robe on.

Another occasion Craig was with me at Two Bunch, when late at night a limo picked us up in the
parking lot. We were taken some place and reprimanded for the therapy I was doing and were
threatened with the "loss of many things," if I didn't stop and if my husband didn't make me stop. A man
in the limo took hold of Craig by the shirt and warned, "Bob doesn't want to have anything happen to his
important asset. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," my husband replied. He was very scared and for some reason I started laughing.

Within seconds the man delivered a blow to my face. I felt the stinging of my cheek as his
attention turned to me, "Do you find something funny, young lady?" I became very serious and stopped
laughing.

I didn't have any way to know then the uphill battle I faced, the magnitude of the system I was
attempting to break out of, or the many obstacles, heartaches and abuses I would have to withstand over
time in my battle for freedom. Despite the threats, my husband continued to pay $3,000-$5,000 a
month for psychotherapy and bodywork, for four more years of my recovery. My controllers found the
fact that I was in therapy amusing, totally assured that I was processing from anywhere but the National
Security guaranteed, mind-controlled area of my brain. Since they saw me as a robot, they didn't worry
about being discovered. Plus, they felt their secrets were protected by their sheer incredulity.

I was programmed to report to the Federal Building, which was in very close proximity to Stuart's
office and to UCLA. I went upstairs to the 7th floor, exited the elevator and went down two doors on my
left. I was told, "You will find a room with a view," which cryptically meant there was a closed circuit
television for instructions. Further I was told, "Sit down, soak up the view, then go back downstairs and
try to read the newspaper in the stand and report back if you can." Due to programming against it, I
couldn't read it but always followed orders and tried. I was at the Federal Building often. It was a place of
"orders headquarters" from Henry. He gave me instructions over closed circuit television when he
couldn't gain access or time with me anywhere else.

I had a lot of disguises to wear into the Federal Building. Hats, dark glasses, old baggy dresses, or
skirts I'd throw on over my short shorts. I received closed circuit instructions at other locations also, like
in rooms in hotels or at corporate offices, office buildings in Los Angeles, Santa Monica, or in the San
Fernando Valley. But, at times, Henry had something urgent and needed access to me immediately, so he
sent me to the Federal Building. I also delivered my own medical reports from UCLA to the Federal
Building to send back to Henry. I guess it was like a mind control report card. My continual breakdown
created more need for "check-ups."

Hope Tries to Bring Me Back Into the Fold

During this time as my memory began bleeding through, per program, I suffered with severe
migraine headaches and other programmed responses to this security breech. In another of a series of
containment efforts, Bob directed me to hike up to China Flats, a small waterhole area located on the
Jordan Ranch, down the street from my home. He told me to meet him there at 4 p.m. Bob was flown in
on a two-seater helicopter. This meeting was intended to bring me back in line and was not much
different from the little chats he and others had been giving me. Like always he started out very calmly
and before he was through ended up shouting at me as he paced all over. He always said a lot of, "When
are you ever going to learn?" in between the programs he triggered me with and he called me, "my child."
What he and others didn't understand was that I was not any more capable of really controlling of myself
and my actions than I had ever been. The actual problem was that now I had parts of me who were
becoming conscious, which was triggering the acting out of their program commands and this was
disrupting my usage and threatened to destroy their plan for my life. In my soul I wanted to be free, but
it would take time to accomplish that.
Robot Breakdown Strategies

One day, Henry and George Bush were having a "meeting of the minds," as they called it, to decide
what to do with me since the efforts to keep me 'in line' and 'on line' were continually failing. As I sat in
'park mode,' overhearing their conversation, George Bush said, "We're going to have to waste her Hank."
Henry replied, "George, we have to be rational and calmly think ahead to the future. Just look at
the situation we are faced with. This isn't one isolated case. Sure, she has been my closest watched, but if
she's breaking down after all we've done, then the others can do the same thing. We could have a world
of trouble on our hands and I don't mean that lightly. We have got to restore her and send her back out
there. We'll need a hundred of them like her to help keep the others marching in line. We'll just create a
new scenario. It's our game, we can create it anyway we choose, like we always have. I just need some
time to figure out a plan. Take her out now and we actually will lose control. We can use her to learn
from our mistakes to correct them next time. I'm sure I can devise a plan that will capitalize on this. I
just need time to go back to the think tank."

As I continued to break down even further, I overheard Henry Kissinger say to a man I didn't
know, "We may as well monitor her closely and watch how she breaks down. We've got a lot of others
like her out there that are going to need tending to. So we'll learn from her how to best take care of the
others." Through my therapy with Stuart, Henry was hoping to seal up the holes in my consciousness
that were leaking memory of my past, especially the over the rainbow parts of my life experience that I
was programmed not to remember. They were attempting to do a repair in my mind from my childhood
so it would shore me up for further use. They also wanted to set me up to keep others locked into
programming, while they listened to me lecture on how I got out, which I wouldn't really have
accomplished. After the culmination of their plan, they felt they would have the masses' minds under
control and would no longer need to continue the charade since no one would be able to think to
question anything that was occurring. They felt this would greatly simplify the human condition so that
those self-chosen elite who were qualified could exist in peace and have superb quality of life. Henry said
he had been witnessing too many robots cracking up and he needed me to be restored so I could
complete the business that was planned for me with the contacts that, over the years, had grown to know
and love me. He said I had put in the time and had gained an intimate trust with many important key
players and I had to finish out my time by continuing to be of service to the people that had grown
accustomed to me. So they shored me up with therapy, submerged me in the new age healing program
lock-ins and began getting me conditioned to not be with my husband so much. Craig and I had been
inseparable for many, many years, so this was a slow but steady change.

Henry had me peruse the leading bookstores, buy a variety of new age books from different
categories, read them and report back a synopsis. This gave him plenty of current 'rages,' he called them
and data that he could tap into to devise a strategic plan for the future.

And Henry's plan soon emerged. One day after my therapy session, men in suits accessed me in
Westwood as I went down the stairs that faced the back parking lot and confiscated my whole journal.
Skimming through it, one said, "She's written out a whole agenda." They told me I didn't need to worry
about this anymore, that they would be glad to handle it for me. And they walked away with my journal.

Then I had to report for more reconditioning in their attempt to shut down the leaks. This was in the late
80's. Henry felt it was crucial to monitor me heavily until I'd made the transition fully into the new
'persona' they were creating me to be: increasingly a more independent woman, very together, good
speaker, writer, etc., for the future. In this way I could serve as an attraction and ultimately a
containment person, with an agenda of speaking out about satanic ritual abuse. Then others would miss
the real story about the mind control while their own programming would be sealed even tighter by
words they would program me to deliver. "Like one of those Chinese finger puzzles," Henry said referring
to the containment web. This was all done so when they transferred me to Hawaii, the transition would
go smoothly.

Was it Escape or Relocation and Redirection?

After I fled California to Kauai, what I was still not yet aware of was that as parts of me celebrated
their freedom, other programmed parts were still intact, fully programmed and still serving "the cause"
my controllers dictated. Actually my "flight to freedom" was not yet fully realized; instead it turned out to
be a clever plan my controllers devised in order to use me to the fullest during the stepped up
culmination years of their plan. They went about destroying my marriage and having me watch movies
that superimposed the reality they wanted me to believe. I was directed to watch the movie Shirley
Valentine and when I went to the Whole Life Expo, a psychic that I walked by reached out to me and told
me that I would be making a trip across the oceans to a new life. My life was still out of my own control
and unbeknownst to me I continued to serve their plan, only now from the tiny island of Kauai.

A Heavenly Message

Feeling lost, disoriented, and missing my family I left behind, I sought out places of solace on the
island. One day I had an incredible experience. The white sand beach on Kauai felt warm beneath my
skin as I allowed my body to melt into the relaxation of the soft sand, basking in the warm gentle rays of
the Hawaiian sun as the wind gently caressed my aching body and spirit. The sweet smell of the pungent
plumeria flowers that I laid near my head continued to waft a heavenly aroma. My body felt exhilarated
from the swim in the beautiful blue Hawaiian sea water. The uplifting Christian praise music that played
through my Walkman lifted me ever higher, soothing and easing the tension in my wounded, terrified,
disoriented mind and body. As I rested, I once again heard, very clearly, the words of the Holy Spirit,
"Doesn't one so wounded, deserve to heal in the most beautiful place in the world?" Tears of
acknowledgement streamed down my cheeks and dropped onto my large magenta beach towel.

Silently I cried out in desperation and despair, "God, I miss my kids and my husband. I'm so
confused, I feel lost and weak, what should I do? Help me Father, please help me." Soon I felt comfort as
the Holy Spirit wrapped His huge loving, soothing arms around what I was to later discover was this
most wounded of souls. I fell into a deep, peaceful slumber, momentarily letting go of all of my cares and
burdens and was entered into that peace that passes all understanding. And I began to realize the
meaning of those words learned so long ago in Sunday school. This peace, enveloping me in the midst of
the chaos and confusion of my life, gave the promise of hope. And this time it wasn't Bob.

When I awoke from this peaceful slumber, I was guided by the Holy Spirit to take a walk. Silently,
I was led in the direction of an old sign that read, "This is the site of an ancient Hawaiian refuge, a
sanctuary for natives escaping unjust accusations and retaliation by their accusers where those seeking
protection can find refuge." Tears came to my eyes as I realized 1, too, was being allowed to take refuge
there. And for the moment I felt safe. The Holy Spirit gently nudged me, like a loving father caring for his
young, in the direction of the crescent shaped rock wall bordering and enclosing into safety, the small
swimming beach called Lydegate. I stopped to take in the incredible view, the turquoise blue waters,
sending wave upon wave crashing into the large rock fortress that protected the beach. I marveled at the
glorious sense I felt that the Almighty Creator of the heavens and the earth was gently rocking the world,
thus creating the beautifully graceful, never ending wave formations.

Breaking my thought the Holy Spirit spoke again, calling me by the nickname He has used over
the years, "Starshine, look to the right of the large rock beside your foot. There you will find a gift."
Hardly believing my ears, I questioned, "A gift for me from my Heavenly Father? Was I hearing
correctly?"

Curious now and with the anticipation of a small child awaiting the opening of the first gift on
Christmas, I bent to discover what sort of gift from God was there for me to receive. Reaching out, my
hand found it before my eyes, and I pulled the small object from it's home on the sand and held it before
me, carefully examining each and every detail. It was so tiny, so intricately detailed and so, so fragile.
The paper thin shell remains of the mini sea urchin was so extremely fragile that I was afraid I would
crush it and break it simply by holding it.

As I continued gazing on this miniature gift from God, I listened with quiet intent as my Heavenly
Father spoke to me once again, "My child, you are so precious to me. I will hold you in the palm of My
hand, just like you are holding this small gift from me. You need to know that as this shell is extremely
fragile, so are you at this time, in ways you have yet to understand. Do not fear, be patient with yourself
and know that I am guiding you step by step. Most of all remember, you are never alone."

Deeply touched by this message, yet completely without understanding of the ways in which I
might be as fragile as the tiny, delicate shell that I held in my hand, I cautiously wrapped my fingers
around it and went back over to my place on the beach. Lying down, with the gift still carefully held in
my hand, I contemplated, "How could I be that fragile?" As I thought, the only explanation I could come
up with was how at times, due to the many still unintegrated multiple personality states I often found
myself in, I was often unable to perform even the simplest of tasks. For instance one afternoon, alone at
Kay's, so far away from my home in California, I found myself hungry yet unable to even think to
remember how to go about making my lunch. Feeling two years old and indeed locked, for the moment,
into a very childlike personality, I could not even begin to think how to make myself a sandwich. The
perfected gears in my mind were not turning on their own, as the sophisticated machinery created by
Henry Kissinger, Bob Hope and others, broke down and came to a screeching halt. And where it stopped,
left me often locked into the mindset of a two-year-old. I just couldn't function. And so I thought,
perhaps this was the type of situation that my Heavenly Father was aware of and was reassuring me that
He was there for me, all I had to do was trust. Broken and unable to do anything on my own, yet with the
trust of a child, I allowed myself to relax into His promise.

Later that night as I got ready for bed, I placed the tiny, fragile shell on my windowsill, to remind
me of the promise. And so it was that God led me to healing and complete recovery, in His time, and in
His way, so that I could be with you to share His message today. For God wants all of the wounded,
mind-controlled slaves to be freed and he has tasked me with the assignment of being the fiduciary, His
trusted servant, willing to facilitate the release and healing of those wounded souls locked into the
bondage of mind control. And so if you find yourself not free, God will make your way to freedom, and
will lead you every step of the way, just like He did for me. He has promised to make your way. Jesus
said, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened."
All you have to do is ask.

Interwoven into the many experiences I had where the Holy Spirit came to guide me, were also
other experiences where the parts of me that were still programmed realized that I was still not free.
Soon after I moved to Kauai, without my conscious awareness, I was delivered to
Barking Sands Missile Weapon Site, located on the south shore of the island, and at other times serviced
people like Ronald Reagan, Bob Hope and his friends on the golf course in Princeville. George Bush met
me at the tiny Princeville Airport in order to direct me into further assignments and threatened me in his
attempt to keep my renegade freedom fighter personalities under wraps.

In spite of my controllers' attempts to shut down conscious access of how I had been used, I
continued to have flashbacks of many of my political experiences and I began to more fully understand
the way my programming worked. These memories, that often included my family, gave me a fuller
picture of reality and helped me understand why I couldn't yet safely return to California. As I grieved
the loss of my husband and children I had left behind in California, I was spiritually guided to thank God
no matter how bad things looked. I found myself sobbing through my tears as I cried out, "Thank you,
God, I love it!" even as they eventually took custody of my children away. The Holy Spirit continually
showed me that no matter how it looked, I was still in the right place. And while it appeared that I served
two masters, all along God knew that I was still in service to a greater plan that I would need to
experience and be a part of in order to chronicle it and share it with you now.

Kauai Containment Center

The friendly recovery network I was connected to while on the island of Kauai was still carefully
held within a network of programmed people so I would be surrounded by the programming themes
intended to keep me in bondage. It is a very clever plan. I was welcomed with loving arms by Kay Snow
Davis and Charles Davis. But mixed in with incredible love, healing, and Holy Spirit insight, was also a
secret agenda, one that to this day I believe they also were unconscious of. Charles drove me around the
island to welcome me and orient me to my new surroundings. While we drove, he set in barrier blocks
within my mind that would later block memory of my use at different areas including large hotels, like
the Westin, Hyatt, Princeville, CoCo Palms Resort, and Garden Isle Inn.

The Westin Hotel on Kauai was full of big white statues, huge indoor pools, waterfalls, and large
cultural art pieces. Kay took Kelly and I there one evening, when Kelly was visiting, and as we walked
around the hotel, she hypnotically laid in number systems from one to eight, designating different areas.
Later when I received the little post cards in the mail, alerting me to my assignments, I could decipher
the simple codes. All they needed to say was W- l and I knew that would mean the Westin, a room on the
first floor. An eight would mean the far restaurant and so on. Each hotel had a letter assigned to it
and numbers identifying areas where I was to go.

Not yet in touch with the many reporting personalities I had that were still intact, I thought I was
safe. Actually, I was contained by many things in my environment. First I was contained by the network
of programmed individuals I was living amongst as their programmed statements and hand signals
continually reinforced my 'remember to forget' programs. My memory was also blocked by the endless
visual images that were linked in my subconscious mind with hypnotic program commands to forget.

Many of these images in my daily environment were things like the large building-size murals of whales,
dolphins and rainbows that I drove by every day. I was also still reporting back to California to old
friends and other people who I didn't know were programmed. Then, I was reporting to the 800
numbers I was instructed to. The containment plan was and is large, and will continue to work very
effectively - until enough people are able to see what is actually happening.

Still a Working Girl

I was actually kept very busy on assignments, yet consciously thought that I went to the beach
every day. There were blocks of assignments but I never was to enter a hotel from the same direction
twice so I wouldn't be detected or become a familiar face to the wrong people. Some places Kay cued me
to and other places Charles did. But I was cued to large hotels all over Kauai and some of the neighboring
islands.

I was programmed to stand on the corner of the highway and was picked up by a military jeep and
taken to Barking Sands Missile Range. There were underground facilities and if the base was threatened,
even for the security of classified, top secret information, then they had missiles and bombs set to go off
which later would be explained as an enemy attack. I don't believe the military guards knew exactly what
they were protecting. When I'd round the corner with a senior officer-in-charge, they'd look surprised at
first, but I was waved through before being taken to a high-tech operations room. Once inside they sat
me in a large thick metal chair that spun and did all sorts of torturous things, but they told me my mind
was numbed so I couldn't feel the pain. They numbed my mind with hypnotic suggestion while my body
spun. Then I was instructed to lean into position to look into the big goggles. The pictures I saw began
with a bee and other nature scenes and then it all went so fast I couldn't see the individual pictures. That
way the information went directly into the subconscious mind without any conscious intrusion or filters
to connect the two. As long as the programmed information bypassed the conscious mind they felt I
couldn't remember because I wouldn't be able to connect the information.

When I was to meet Reagan on the island, I received a post card in the mail and it had the date,
time and place on it to meet Reagan. When he came alone I met him at the Princeville Airport. He
arrived anonymously by helicopter with Secret Service agents. A limo was waiting inside the fence to the
airport and the helicopter would land right by it and Reagan would be rushed off the helicopter, and
hurried into the limo and we'd be taken to the Princeville Hotel.

Another time I was programmed to meet Reagan at the Princeville Hotel on the north shore of the
island. He entered through the large sliding glass doorway and I was sitting in a chair in the lobby,
instructed to watch for him. This was in 1991 and Reagan had come to the island for a visit. When he saw
me he quickly pointed toward the left side of the hotel indicating that I was to walk that way.

Immediately I walked in the direction he pointed. As I got out of sight of people and into a back hallway
he quickly walked over to me, said hello and told me that he missed me, then he spun me around for
programming purposes and escorted me to the elevator. Men in suits followed close behind and he
explained that he still had agents guarding him that we would have to contend with.

We entered into a large peach colored room that overlooked the bay. Reagan said Nancy was
flying in to meet him later and said he just wanted a reminder of me. He went on to explain that he really
missed me and he really missed being President. He said he was really surprised just how much he
missed it. We had sex in the usual stance, with him passively beneath me. Afterwards he smiled and said,
"You've still got it kid." He patted me and I lay next to him until he fell asleep and then I let myself out of
the room. I passed the agents in the hallway having a cigarette by the elevator and waited mindlessly for
the valet to bring my rental car around. When I returned home, I was in a stupor and went straight to
bed, all traces of the memory neatly locked beneath the programming that protected it.

The Last Time I Saw Bob Hope Goodbye Cruel World

Another day when I drove my Lexus to Princeville, I accompanied Reagan and Bob on the golf
course. I rode in the golf cart and was pretty out of it while we were on the green. All I could do was clap
and smile when they did well and I kept score manually for them. While Reagan was taking his turn, Bob
said to me, "So you think you got away, huh?" Shaking his head he continued, "There are bigger fish in
the sea that got away, but you my dear are not one of them."

I smiled and curtsied to Bob, like I had done for years.

Bob softened and said, "Feels like old times out on the course, doesn't it?"

"Yes it does, Bob." I answered just before he began to relive and rehash the past, constantly
referring to old times, old movies he'd starred in, old performances, USO tours, old people - THE PAST!
He said he loved the Princeville course, loved the view and said that the ocean air was good for him. He
had some sinus problems and said they cleared right up when he was out in the ocean air. He never once
mentioned sex, maybe he'd become to old.

They didn't bother playing the whole green. Bob wasn't real strong and one time he fell into the
golf cart and took a hold of it like he was having trouble seeing and walking. Reagan asked him if he was
okay and Bob replied, "Hell yes, let's go on, I'll be fine." I didn't know then that this was to be the very
last time I would see my owner in person.

Prince Charles Visits the Island

Prince Charles came to the island when he and Di were having marital problems. He came just to
relax and get some perspective. The Council instilled a whole agenda into me for the week I entertained,
toured, listened, and had sex with Prince Charles. Retrieving this memory made me really nauseated.

My Children are Reprogrammed

In an attempt to rescue my children and provide them with a safe home and believing I was
actually safe and free, I brought them to the island. I had no idea that I was still being accessed, and that
they were also. Consciously I thought we just went to the beach everyday, while the kids played with
friends and surfed. But later I remembered that when they arrived they also were taken to Barking Sands
Missile Base. Their programs were stepped up to match my new level after which Danny was very sick
and laid on his futon and cried for two days.

While on Kauai, when Kelly was with me for the summer we were programmed to perform as a
mother-daughter sex team. We were also filmed in underwater ballet and sex with dolphins and other
sea creatures in pornography. Sometimes we swam with underwater sea turtles, they were such docile
creatures and they weren't interested in sex. I could relate to them because all they tried to do was get to
safety so they could relax and finally be at peace. There was lots of porn filmed on the island. They felt
the natural splendor would only enhance the productions and they filmed lots of slaves with dolphins.

They filmed us in shimmery suits, or braid wraps, all sorts of fancy hair and body jewels and ornaments
or jeweled waist belts while otherwise naked. There was quite a following of dolphin porn lovers. When a
male dolphin got excited, his penis stuck up and looked like a Bird of Paradise flower. We all learned that
if you weren't scared and approached him lovingly the sexual encounter wouldn't be as painful. There
was a rich local attorney named Ken whose job was to sufficiently launder the proceeds. I delivered
money to him from Sylvester Stallone and from other less prominent men on the island.

Sylvester Stallone

Stallone liked to have group sex with lots of women and he liked Kelly and I together. He had us
the first time when we were staying in a cottage in Anahola. As programmed, during the middle of the
night I went to my daughter and said, "Kelly, Kelly, wake up, we have work to do.
"No Mom," Kelly said, "I'm tired."

"Wake up now!" I commanded, snapping my fingers drawing my 13-year-old daughter into a
wideawake state. I held her hand all the way to the rental car we drove when I first arrived onto the
island. We drove to Stallone's house in Anini Beach and parked in the drive. He said that since it was a
rental car it would be fine. Kelly and I went into the house and out to a oval room where there were other
girls waiting. One was Japanese and another brunette. At first we all just sat and looked at each other,
smiling in awkward embarrassment. Sly walked in with a white towel around his otherwise naked body
and held his hands out to us. He told us we were waiting for the 5th wheel but she never arrived. He
laughed and directed us into the bedroom. He pointed to Kelly and said, "I want her first." He told her
she had the Bo Derek look and he kissed her before she began her trained, skillful sexual repertoire.

Stallone was snorting cocaine and during the group sex it was my job to remember to offer him more. He
had a small spoon that he stuck up his nose to snort the white powder. Kissing Kelly he said, "Bob has
good taste." Pulling her hair back and kissing her more deeply he added, "and it's getting better all the
time." When he was finished sexually satisfying himself with her he rolled her over and said, "rest little
baby," as he went to the other girls in turn. We never spent the night, stayed just a few hours and after
Stallone went to sleep I kissed his cheek, took Kelly's hand and we tip-toed out.

Stallone once said, "There's nothing quite like a slave. I love getting them from the underground.
You're all so cooperative, don't give me no shit. This is the life I tell ya'. No bitchy, demanding women,
not when I can have beautiful, sweet, white women who set me free. It's all about freedom," he rambled,
while laying on his back in a seemingly drugged stupor, about "America the Beautiful and the home of
the brave." He was high on cocaine. The higher he got the better the animal lover he was to become. That
was his code name, "Animal." And when they told me, "the Animal" wanted Kelly and 1, then I knew it
was Stallone. I also gave him massages, often in open air areas.

Sly thought the dolphin porn was the greatest new combo and he directed a lot of the porn videos.
It was filmed at areas at the North Shore, Poipu or, he had us helicoptered into remote areas for filming.
Large cameras were taken out to these remote island areas. I delivered some money from Stallone and
from other less prominent men on the island to Ken, the wealthy attorney who had a big beautiful house
in Kilauea. I believe it was his job to see that the money was sufficiently laundered.

Sly wore a wet suit but we were always naked in the water. There were trained dolphins that we
did water ballet and swam with. When we swam gracefully the male dolphin got excited and started
nudging us. We grabbed onto them and went for the ride; if we didn't, they told us, "one wrong move and
you could get ripped to shreds." The dolphin actually remembered us over time and the same male would
consistently choose the same girl, even when the group size changed from small to large. They got to
know us and didn't forget in between. When my sons were on the island they were filmed also. One day
after the filming, Sly said to Kelly, "You come back soon, ya here?"

During other visits, where I was supposedly allowed to see my children, Kelly and I were
prostituted to Charlton Heston, and I was to Kareem Abdul Jabaar. Taj Mahal, the jazz musician, was on
the island to keep other slaves in line through satanic rituals. One time I was programmed to drive to
Secret Beach at night to attend a 'gathering' where, unbeknownst to my conscious personality, I was
raped in a ritual.

Consciously I thought, as my programmed reality dictated, that I had escaped from my controllers
in California and I was now safe. I believed I had rescued my children, and as the summer came to an
end, I began the process of enrolling them in island schools. I moved from house to house, attempting to
keep our whereabouts anonymous, only to have my stillprogrammed children call back to their father in
California and report our current location and phone number. It was terrifying. And I thought I would
die of grief and terror when Craig told the kids and I that if I didn't return them to California he would be
sending in a police escort to bring them home. Devastated and panicked but not knowing what else to do,
I returned my children to their father in California. Shortly afterwards, my attorney notified me that if I
wanted to ever see my children again I needed to attend a court hearing in California. Frightened of the
danger of being accessed, I called Ted Gunderson (retired FBI official) who helped me hire a bodyguard.
I flew to California, where behind the judge's closed doors, I lost custody of my children. My attorney,
Doug Wolfe, let me in on the news when he informed me in the Courthouse hallway, "You're lucky to be
alive, just get back to the island and get a job."

My children's programmed father and our controllers were now in even more total control of their
lives.

The Wind Beneath My Wings

Extremely sad and depressed, I returned to the island. The job I took when I returned was to
begin to more fully document many of my memories and I began writing my first book STARSHINE. It
wasn't an easy task because first I had to undo the endless programs that kept me from being able to use
the word processor without a programmed part of me destroying the information I had just typed. But I
was determined to do whatever it took to get eventual help for my children. Memories of a political and
international nature often flooded my awareness and I documented them each time something new
came to mind. Due to the vivid nature of flashbacks I experienced, I spent nearly two years stuck in the
body memory part of my Kissinger experiences and had to live with the smell of this cigar smoke and
listening within to the sound of his accented voice. Similarly, I flooded with sexual memories about Pete
Wilson and Ted Kennedy. Talk about intrusion!

Since I had no money, I hired the 'ocean' to be my therapist and with God's guiding, I actually did
some of my best memory recovery work alone on the beach, with the ocean holding the space of peace,
love and strength for me so I could delve to the depths of my own mind. With the solid foundation built
from years of memory recovery done while I was still in California, and after a year on the island
retrieving still deeper layers of memories, and programming, I had a pretty clear picture that something
was up - exactly what I wasn't sure. I couldn't imagine why I would be with Henry Kissinger, Nixon or
Reagan, or what was so important about me that people were following me and overly interested in what
I was doing. But all my memories, held together by the pages in my journals, began to neatly fill in the
picture. In 1992, 1 purchased a light and sound machine of my own, and after mastering the fear
associated with using some of the same technology my controllers had used on me, I began to more
easily recover even deeper layers of memory. Soon I realized the programs that controlled me were
broken and nullified as I became consciously aware of them.

Bush Flies Into Princeville

But my other secret jobs didn't stop and with my family out of their way, I was now freer and
more unencumbered than ever to work for my controllers. George Bush met me at Princeville Airport, a
very small airport on the north shore of the small island. Then we would both be helicoptered to Barking
Sands Missile Range. When we arrived he and a military officer saluted each other and then he was
escorted to an outside structure that had glass doors.

At another time, George Bush met me at Barking Sands Missile Range, for a talk about "getting
back in line." I was parked in my Lexus waiting near the entrance when Bush drove up in a military jeep.

A military officer was driving him. Bush told me to start my engine and follow him. I followed through
the gates that were opened for him into the missile site. He motioned me out of my car and stomped over
to me. He stood and yelled in my face about being irresponsible. I had a hard time hearing or
understanding him because it was extremely windy. I also think personalities inside of me were
attempting to shield me from his barrage of programmed verbiage. He waved his glasses around while he
yelled at me. In his cryptic mind control lingo Bush said, "Get into line or Kelly will be on a #9." He was
referring to the well known freedom train mind control theme, of being thrown off the train, which
cryptically meant her death. Angrily, Bush saluted and told me to get back in my car and get the hell
home. He was very angry.

An Act of Nature Sets Me One Step Closer to Freedom

But "category five" Hurricane Iniki changed many of their plans and this act of nature ultimately
worked in my favor, freeing me a little more each day. I lost the home that I attempted to recreate on the
island to the hurricane, and as I healed my mind, body and spirit, I realized more and more every day
that I still wasn't safe. In order to have the electricity to continue powering my laptop, Patrick Stone, the
man who helped me write Starshine, (himself an unrecovered victim of mind control), and I were forced
to leave the island. Military planes evacuated us to the island of Maui, where we continued writing. There
we were continually visited and harassed by men my controllers sent to the hotel that we later discovered
was also a "containment center." True to the network containment strategy, our friends on Kauai
referred us to this place and we continued writing while we were monitored. It frightened me because I
was now conscious enough to realize that I continually ended up in places where I thought I was free, but
I wasn't. This was due to the fact that I wasn't fully integrated and half of my programming was still
intact and affecting me, still binding me hopelessly to my controllers. In many ways I felt free though,
and continued to heal and dedicate my life to service and God. While I, Susan, wrote, my 'inner twin
sister' Sharon took the heat and once again endured the physical and mental tortures so I could be free to
write Starshine. My dissociative state was now being used in my favor, although it often wasn't easy.

One night while in Maui, I had a dream and saw a map with a check mark identifying Oregon. At
that time I was unaware that I was receiving telepathic messages, often at night. I called Margie Paul and
told her about the dream and that I felt guided to move. So she talked to a famous movie star that was
also her client and asked her to recommend a place. Through that recommendation, I moved off Maui
and took what few belongings I had left with me to Ashland, Oregon. I rented a home, referred to me by
this movie star's realtor friend, and began writing. Kelly and Danny visited me at Christmas. Soon after,
Kelly and I were prostituted as a motherdaughter sex team to Clinton, who had just been elected, but not
yet inaugurated as President.

I didn't realize that I was still programmed not to notice when I was 'missing time.' Healing,
integration and deprogramming didn't come as quickly as I wanted it to. Healing took time. But my
continued motivation to heal and figure out what this all meant kept me uncovering more and more in
regard to my own programming and how the system all worked.

Months later I mustered the courage to move back to California. I desperately wanted to help my
children, and felt I was recovered enough and safe enough to do that. I didn't know I still had layers of
personalities and programs still intact that would keep me under control, and unfortunately neither did
David Neswald, the therapist I worked with there in Southern California. To make matters worse, upon
the completion of Starshine, as I readied it for print, my brother, Rick, who was one of my programmed
controllers, and whom I had chosen not to see for years, was able to access me one last time. This
accessing allowed him to gain entrance to my apartment in Calabasas and rape me, threatening that if I
didn't stop with Starshine they would publicly display the compromising pictures that he then took of my
children and me. The next morning, I awoke disoriented, terrified, and confused and had no idea the
source. But later that day, I "remembered" the horrific scene and was grateful to have at least
remembered it because, in the past, it had taken me months, often years to remember traumatic events.

In hysterical panic, I once again phoned Ted Gunderson for further advice on how to stay safe. He
told me to get special locks for my doors, and a security system, and I had alarms that I bought for each
door so if anyone, including myself, went in or out, they would sound off. I even purchased an alarm that
I wore on my body and set it off if anyone of a suspicious nature approached me. It was terrifying, as I
realized I was still not able to keep myself safe, due to programming that operated beyond my control.

Soon I realized, though, that this traumatic event was actually another "gift" to me, without which I
would never have known I was still under program. I continued working in therapy with Dave Neswald
who, although well intentioned, was not informed in regard to how my sophisticated government
programming worked. I had hired bodyguards in the past and now he and Ted were suggesting that for
my safety I hire one again, only full-time now. With very limited funds, and enormous mounting therapy
bills, I wondered how I could afford a bodyguard? I compromised and hired a live-in housekeeper who
would at least be with me most of the time, as my therapist was afraid that my controllers would switch
me with my "twin sister" and take me away. I lived in absolute terror, trying to keep the trauma from
occurring not only at my controller's hands, but also at my own. I was scared all the time, because I
couldn't even trust myself, not knowing if I would involuntarily switch and put myself or my children in
danger. Most of the time, in those days during 1993, 1 couldn't even complete a sentence when I
attempted to communicate and my mind felt confused and exhausted.

I persevered toward getting Starshine into print. When I began to ponder just what the cover
should be like, I found a booklet in a craft store with a picture of an angel that I just knew had to be on
the cover. The events that occurred later that day, proved to me without a shadow of a doubt that God's
angels were indeed watching over me. When I called the artist and explained that I wanted her angel to
grace the cover of Starshine, she agreed without question. The only thing she wanted me to know was
that this was the angel she had designed for the White House Christmas tree that year! Talk about
synchronicities and miracles.

Attempts to Stop Me

Over the years, as I attempted to heal, break free, write and get my book into print, I was harassed
in many ways. Over time, I paid more and more attention to the triggers that were sent my way to stop
me from remembering and becoming free. These messages and triggers actually provided a guide, a road
map of sorts, toward discovering and dismantling deeper layers of my programming.

For years, I have been tailed, my phones are usually tapped, people have been "sent in on me" in
my controllers' attempt to reprogram and regain control of me. Other people were 'sent in on me' in a
timely fashion, such as in 1992 when Patrick Stone and I 'bumped into' Dutch Schroeder, his Baylor
University coach, who just happened to be vacationing on Maui during the exact same time we were
writing the FBI chapter in Starshine. When we had lunch with he and his wife, he told us he was one of
Bill Sessions' friends. At that time, William 'Bill' Sessions was still the Director of the CIA.

At other times, men in suits found me in homes of acquaintances, beaches, restaurants, hotels and
cabins alike and made their threats; physical and verbal. My car tires were slashed, my mail was
tampered with, often held back for months, only to mysteriously arrive in bunches up to two years after
the postmark date! Phone messages, powerfully, cryptically encoded and laced with programming
intended to keep me under control were played over the phone or recorded on my answering machine.

Shrill sounds and/or tones were also played over the phone to tap into my programming. Disturbing
written "triggers" intended to either frighten me into submission or keep me from remembering, were
sent by mail. As I ran for my life from state to state, two separate individuals rear-ended my car on the
same day, within hours of each other. I was set up and programmed to pose for compromising photos in
an attempt to blackmail me should the need arise. And, as I mentioned earlier, during 1993, in my quest
to get Starshine into print, I was threatened and warned to cease with its self-publication. And, when I
didn't stop, I was raped.

The CIA Lends a Hand? Tennessee Bound

But a breakthrough occurred. Ted Gunderson called to inform me that he had just heard from
another woman who lived across the nation, who had also sent him her memory work about being used
as a sex slave to Ronald Reagan. Although it was a terrifying time for me, it also was an amazing time of
discovery for all of us. Mark Phillips, her so-called therapist and deprogrammer flew across the nation
and told me that "Jimmy Carter's people" had called him in an attempt to stop him from meeting with
me. I flew Mark and Cathy O'Brien to California to meet with me for the first time and I put on a seminar
where they were the featured speakers. Mark Phillips knew all about my programming. Looking back on
it now, he seemed to know way too much. He asked me if I had "a twin sister who was two inches shorter
than me." This was a very powerful key and code into the programming of my "inner twin sister,"
Sharon, and this seemingly simple statement controlled my body in a very intimate way from the
outside, showing me while in normal consciousness that I was indeed a robot, and not in control of my
own body. Shortly after Mark and Cathy's arrival and seminar, a series of events occurred including an
accident and ensuing hospitalization of the person that was living with me as my safe person. Mark
Phillips explained that I was not safe in California and once again I ended up running. I paid to fly Mark,
Cathy and I back to his mother's home in Charlotte, Tennessee where we began my process of what we
then called "deprogramming."

Several weeks later, with nearly 10 years of recovery behind me, this so-called "retired?!" CIA
operative made dramatic changes in his living arrangements just to "help me deprogram." After
relocating across the country, to a home in Arab, Alabama where I paid all domestic expenses for the
three of us, a large sum of money for traveling expenses for both he, his girlfriend Cathy, and myself, and
a large 'consulting fee,' this renegade CIA operative read my lengthy journal entries daily for a year and a
half and agreed that in his own words, "the memory work contains absolute elements of fact laced with
verifiable details." But one and one-half years, forty-two journals, and $50,000+ traveling and living
expenses later, Mark Phillips informed me that nothing had ever happened to me ...nothing what-soever!
Cathy O'Brien said, "Well, you should be happy that nothing happened and that your children
have not been abused!" I couldn't believe she was saying that, after all the common details of our
histories we had shared.

I was devastated and went to bed and could not eat for three days and remained
noncommunicative and totally subdued for nearly a month afterwards. After all this time of intensely
focused attention on my history, Mark informed me that I had never even been abused, and that I just
had a big imagination. But, he had seemed to appreciate that I was around to cover all of his expenses.

I suspect that Mark is some kind of "containment agent" who is being directed through his
"handlers" whose motivations ultimately serve the New World Order. Through his containment
expertise, the information I have conveyed to you in this book you are now reading was delayed in
reaching you by nearly seven years. After I moved, I found out that Mark had initially told Walter Bowart
(author of Operation Mind Control and eyewitness to my use with Bob Hope in Palm Springs) that I was
schizophrenic, and since then, I have uncovered a string of lies he told others in an attempt to discredit
me. I also reconnected with another Kissinger survivor that Mark Phillips had worked with for a time.

Mark Phillips told her the same thing he told me - "THIS NEVER HAPPENED TO YOU!" With my trust
shattered, Ted Gunderson, Catherine Gould, Margaret Paul, Walter Bowart and many others
supported me in what I knew to be the truth of my life. I left that home where I had paid all expenses for
Mark Phillips and Cathy O'Brien and went to live in Carbondale, Illinois. I had a slower pace there and
life was sweet while the situation lasted. It was a time of rest and recuperation as the final integration I
had achieved in 1996, solidified into even greater strength and unification while I remained safe.

Baby Monarch Breakdown

After a suicide attempt and hospitalization in California, Kelly was released to me and even went
to high school for a short time in Carbondale. My heart was broken when in June, after only being with
me for a few months, she announced that she missed her Southern California lifestyle and the rest of her
family, and told me she was leaving. Due to her unrecovered, still programmed state of mind, Kelly was
not free to make up her own mind, and was often puppeted by our controllers and the inner web of
programming that dictated her actions. After she left, an opportunity arose and I moved once again, this
time to South Carolina in a quest to open a healing center. All the while, I continued writing my sequel to
Starshine, the book you are reading now.

Going to Carolina to Open a Healing Center

Over the years of my escape, Kelly's programming began to further break down, partially due,
perhaps, to the lack of contact with me. In turn a series of suicide attempts landed her again in the
hospital. Twice I flew to California and brought her back home with me. During these intense times,
Kelly had lucid moments where she told me she knew everything that had happened. She talked to me
about white vans, limos, being in London, hand signals, being sexually abused, and made me promise I
would write about the drugs and how the doctors drugged her, which she told me was destroying her
brain. These medical doctors felt my daughter was psychotic, because they were unaware of her
programming. Kelly thanked me in a card on Mother's Day (see photo section) for her freedom, and as
we spent time together she relayed more and more events that she remembered, which validated my own
experiences.

Knowing what a crucial step it is for mind control victims to wear a watch, I bought Kelly a new
watch. One day while we were swimming in a nearby lake, Kelly looked me right in the eye, took the
watch from her wrist and purposefully dropped it into the lake. I bought her several other watches and
she did the same thing. She was not "allowed" to monitor the time and her programming dictated that
she lose it, quickly, before she got hurt for disobeying her program.

My move to South Carolina to plan and coordinate a healing center for mind control survivors fell
through but God was not to disappoint me in my desire for the healing center. Although I could not yet
see the perfection of the Divine plan, I was soon to begin on a path that would lead me to the creation of
a healing center for survivors, a center furnished with the latest, state-of-the-art technology, with the
capability of bringing survivors into recovery and whole brain synchrony in a more efficient and quicker
manner than my years in 'talk therapy' ever could. The psychotherapy I received, although helpful, didn't
touch or recognize the powerful programming that ruled my every action, and couldn't help me learn to
not dissociate. EEG Neurofeedback helped me learn to not dissociate and to be more present and
attentive.

By April of 1997, Kelly was diagnosed Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) by two separate
therapists, one in North Carolina and one in South Carolina. In previous years, since 1988 I had
attempted to get Kelly informed, qualified help in and out of California, but her father denied her right to
see any therapist who had any awareness of the one thing she needed in order to heal. He interviewed
each therapist I recommended, and if they had any knowledge of DID or ritual abuse, he would not allow
her to see them. But, once again I created a home and in my attempt to help my daughter, I began
studying and training to become a certified EEG Neurofeedback Clinician. I bought an EEG machine
and began working with Kelly at home. She responded well to the neurotherapy, but was reaccessed and
soon became completely catatonic.

But by the summer of 1997, when my daughter's worsening condition rendered her totally
catatonic and non-responsive; unable to eat, drink, walk, talk, use the bathroom or move, I was forced to
hospitalize her. Luckily, I found a female psychiatrist who had read my book, was familiar with MPD,
ritual abuse and government mind control, and was willing to admit my daughter to the hospital while
enacting the security required to keep her safe. While she was hospitalized, another recovered survivor
and I gave an inservice training for the hospital staff. I also completed further EEG Neurofeedback
training and opened my own business.

One time when I visited Kelly in the hospital, my car window was smashed, my briefcase, mind
control literature and the electronic equipment I used to speak publicly was stolen. And to top it off, New
Year's Day, 1998, the Holistic Health Care Clinic that housed my new EEG Neurofeedback business and
the EEG Spectrum equipment that I used to help victims and non-victims alike, was totally destroyed by
fire. Although the official fire department report was that the fire was the result of faulty wiring, I felt the
fire was due to arson. To validate my suspicions, and just in case I forgot and needed "re-minding," two
bags of the ashes from that fire were mysteriously delivered to my home.

Later in the year when another Bob Hope survivor visited me, I had to call the local police to
report a man who was surveilling us late at night outside my home. And, as recently as February 1999, as
I sent out the initial copies of this manuscript, my phone lines to my office were cut and I was tailed.
Each time I am harassed, instead of silencing me, it spurs me into greater action, and the result is
another radio interview, another book or article, and more speaking engagements. I still stay as public as
I can, speaking publicly whenever I am asked, so I can continue to share the truth.

This harassment cannot and will not stop being used against victims attempting to live free, until
this dark system of mind control is exposed and brought to light.

"For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you."
-- Matthew 5:14

"But I say to you that hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you."
-- Luke 6:27

Chapters 32 & 33

2008-12-31T17:47:00.000-06:00

The Second Accident on April 12 was No Accident

On April 12, 1987, at 9:15 a.m. I had another accident. I couldn't fathom how or why I could have
another accident at the same precise date and time, two years later. But, after smashing my head into a
tree and breaking my back in a horseback accident I began flooding with more memories of the past and
began having even more trouble functioning in my day to day world of responsibilities. I was forced to
take more time out to rest and heal in my conscious life. I sought more chiropractic care and began deep
healing with prayer, herbs, and increased body therapies. During this time of physical healing I also grew
spiritually closer to God and gained the strength of perspective I would need to face further reality.

A Visit to the Mental Hospital

It took a couple of years but as my programmed systems began breaking down, causing memories
of my past to begin flooding uncontrollably into my present awareness, I became increasingly more
dysfunctional. I had trouble performing my daily duties as my past came crashing into my awareness,
often with many memories flooding in at the same time. I had trouble dealing with my outer physical
reality, because there was so much going on inside my head to distract me. Paying attention
simultaneously to both inner and outer realities was a challenge, especially with my programming
throwing up hypnotic commands to become confused, have a migraine, burn or kill myself, or redirect
my thoughts in another direction my controllers dictated. After numerous memories of abuse by my
father, mother, brothers and others, including ways in which I myself was used within the system to
abuse others, I asked my therapist, Stuart Perlman, to call Department of Human Services (DHS) with
me and report all of us. He did as I asked and I gave lengthy interviews to authorities, hoping someone
would help me stop this abuse and insure that my children and the other children in the family would be
safe.

As I became increasingly more dysfunctional, I was admitted to a mental hospital in Westwood
for ten days and got another dose of reality. While in the mental hospital, a suited man entered my room
at night while I was in my bed sleeping. He opened the door, came in, sat down on my bed, hypnotically
commanded me, looked around to insure we were alone, then quickly put a tourniquet on my arm and
injected me. Very quietly he said, "You are safe, you are very, very, safe. Nothing you are remembering is
real; it's all just a bad nightmare. Close down section 34 and remember you are safe, very calm and very
safe. You don't need to worry about anything anymore, everything's been handled." Adding another vial
of the drug to the syringe, he injected it into my arm and began round two, "Stuart Perlman is your
friend. He is your trusted friend helping you through these difficult times. He and he alone can help you,
no one else can quite fill his shoes and every time you look at his shoes when he is sitting in front of you,
you will remember this. Now you will sleep very deeply and when you wake you will not remember any of
this or the sound of my voice, but now you will sleep very, very deeply. Your children are safe, you are
safe and you will rest and sleep very deeply. Remember, you are very safe." When he was through, he
took the needle out of my arm, put all of his paraphernalia into a black doctor's bag, and quietly slipped
out of the darkened room. As usual, I viewed all of this from other personalities within, ones that were
not asleep.

What these programmers need to know is that when a person has multiple personalities,
especially personalities that have been programmed to have superb memory capabilities, those
personalities can and do take note of everything that is occurring. If the presenting personality is
drugged, there are still other personalities left inside, untouched by the drugs who 'take note' of what is
happening. Due to this, myself and others have recovered volumes of experiences, as we healed and
reintegrated, in order to be able to put together this larger picture to present to you. Their misuse of
the technology failed. Sorry Henry, back to the drawing board. I guess you need a further distilled
diagram, because, Henry, your security system was not locked up as tightly as you might have thought.
During my hospital stay, I brought up the issue of my children's abuse. To my utter
disappointment, DHS failed to take seriously the allegations of abuse to the young members of our
families. Further, as I was released from the hospital I leaned over the desk to see my medical chart,
which read, "Delusional." No one took me seriously then. I hope you the reader will now.

Further Monitoring at UCLA

My visits to UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute (NPI) occurred more often after my 1985 and 1987
accidents, and the ensuing head and back injuries. I waited in a room lined with chairs and, when called,
I robotically walked where they told me to and did everything just like they requested. If they said, "take
off your blouse," I did. Anything they asked of me, I did. They put me into an examining room, and
tested me neurologically, saying things like, "touch your nose, move your eyes up to the left," that sort of
thing. Then they tested me walking, bending over, etc. I saw the white uniformed doctor refer to a list in
a little notebook. He asked me questions to which I replied robotically. He asked me, "What is your
name? Where do you live? Who is your husband?" All these were standard neurological examination
procedures.

Then an older doctor came in and told me to follow him into a different room. Things got more
technical then. There was a room full of large recorders, the reel-to-reel type with a chair positioned next
to them. He sat me down next to the equipment and gave me long round bars of metal to hold in my
hands. They were always testing different things. I didn't know what, but tried my best to do them
"right." If I did it wrong they got angry and then I got hurt. The doctor hooked me up to headphones and
told me to hold the metal bars real tightly, and I was instructed to go into a very deep trance state.
After certain word phrases, I was electroshocked. I never knew when it was coming and was told
not to let go of the metal bars. When the phrases didn't apply to me, like for instance, "I'm an Eskimo"
there were no shocks. But after a true statement that was applicable to me, I was shocked. Some things
felt very personal and could have only been applied to me. Like, "I love my husband Craig." Or, "I am a
good mother," or, "I am happy in my life; therapy is making me a better person." All kinds of statements
like that were played through the headphones. Sometimes they shocked my feet instead of my hands or
my head. Things varied often and so did the people administering the 'tests.'

At other times a white van picked me up from the streets of Westwood, after a therapy session,
and took me to UCLA. Sometimes they did stuff to me right inside the van. They had equipment inside
and they said things to me and delivered electroshock. It happened often when I was in therapy with
Stuart, in Westwood. The van would pull up to the curb and when the driver leaned toward the passenger
window with his arm across the seatback and looked at me, I was programmed to come toward the van
and step inside. The driver's uniforms varied, like a mail delivery or some bogus repair service, and the
man accompanying him would do the work on me. Sometimes they would initially slap me around. I
never knew what they were going to do, it was always different and I was caught off guard and couldn't
protect myself. I couldn't ever think to protect myself, even if I knew it was coming. They caused all sorts
of violence in order to keep me under control; they tied me up in a chair and put a gun to my head, or
raped or tortured me in some other way. They put knives to my throat - anything they thought would
scare me. At times there was a large mirror in the back of the van and they would stand me in front of it,
tell me I was so and so, and give instructions to that part of me to do jobs or report things. There was a
wide variety of electronic equipment in the back of the van. They injected my arm with some drug and
then showed me clips from a video. One time they showed me a clip of a person unscrewing a big round
cap that let water into the room that they told me I was in. I was told it was real and that I would be safe
if I didn't remember the past. In this virtual reality session they told me that the water would come
over my head and I would drown if I continued to remember. All this was done in the name of "national
security." There was great personal confusion over being in charge of my body or its safety, as a result of
all these tests. It was like my mind was removed from my body and acted separately, and it was very
scary because I wasn't able to be there to protect or help my own body, or my children's.

When the men in the van were finished with me, they pulled. up next to my car, which was parked
in Westwood. When I saw my car I was programmed to switch to Sue and not remember anything that
had just happened, but the other personalities were given the hypnotic suggestion to remember to keep
their instructions hidden and separate from Sue. The men told me to get inside of my car, sit there for
awhile and drive home when I was ready. If I was running late they told me an excuse to deliver to my
family when I got home. This happened more often and the trauma got more intense while I was in daily
therapy with Stuart and Margie.

Another time at UCLA-NPI, I was sitting on a stainless steel table where they had been
photographing my brain from a x-ray machine that stopped and shot pictures in four separate places as
it scanned my head. The doctor said my brain was in a perfect state for some sort of link up. Next they
laid me on a stretcher and tied my ankles and wrists to the bars on the side then they slid me naked into
a long silver metal tube. They placed a small black mask over my eyes just before they shut the door. I
thought maybe they were going to kill me but they said only parts of me died for others to be reborn. A
continuous cycle of life and death for personalities kept things in order, preventing chaos from an
overcrowded internal system. This was how my personality system was kept neat and clean, maintained
for their use.

The scientists and doctors turned everything into a study. They merely turned a mind control
slave system breakdown or "containment problem" into another project to further their research.

"You have heard that it was said, 'an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, do not
resist one who is evil. But if any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also; and if any
one would sue you and take your coat, let him have your cloak as well; and if any one forces you to go one
mile, go with him two miles. Give to him who begs from you, and do not refuse him who would borrow
from you.

"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to
you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father
who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on
the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you?" -- Matthew 5:38

Chapter Thirty-three: Bill Clinton and Hillary

Over the years Bill Clinton surfaced in higher level political circles. At one of Bob's parties Bill was
all made up in a Statue of Liberty costume, decorated in red, white and blue, complete with blinking
lights. He was holding a torch and he acted feminine. I had to have sex with him later on and it felt
confusing to me because it was like having sex with a girl in a man's body. That was strange to me even
under mind control, even compared with all the other strange and perverted experiences to which my
controllers subjected me.

In 1992, before he was inaugurated, Kelly and I were prostituted to Bill Clinton in Klamath Falls,
Oregon. On the ride to meet him, we were told, "Remember Chappaquiddick - that same type of accident
could befall you."

When we met Clinton, he said, "Did you know that I am now your boss, and you will do exactly as
I say. You are under my command." With a robotical tone of voice he told me to give him oral sex and to
get down on the floor where I belonged. Then Kelly robotically sexually serviced him after which I gave
him a message before we were let out of his room.

Later on, I delivered messages to Clinton from the Council, from Kauai, before he was President. I
was delivered aboard a very large ship, put into a stateroom and told to stay on the bed and wait for him.
I did. He slipped into the room without knocking and locked the door behind him. He said, smiling
coyly, "I believe you have something for me?" He had sex with me, with my dress and his pants still on. It
was a quickie and then I gave him the message. It required a simple answer that I was to deliver back to
the Council. His answer was agreeable.

Bill liked to be sung to and have his forehead rubbed. He liked to play mommy and baby baby Bill.
He was often very strange.

When it came to Bill Clinton, Henry would stoop low. He even sent up bags of cocaine with me to
use when I was with Bill or Hillary in order to get them off guard. Bill and Hillary both did the cocaine. I
placed it on a small mirror for them and they had glass nose straws they snorted it through. Bill could do
the whole little white pile with one snort. Hillary took two or three sniffs to get all of hers. Then we
usually had sex.

When I said certain things, they thought I was a gift from Bob Hope, the entertainer. Bob and
Henry's real relationship was kept quiet. The Clintons didn't seem to know that Henry and Bob were
working so closely together, one getting me into the White House while the "Expert" Henry Kissinger
delivered the goods in order to find ways to hang the Clintons. Henry said, "I want them so badly."
After I was through, two men in black uniforms with yellow-braided stripes on their shoulders
came to get me and one stood on each side as they escorted me back to the helicopter that was on one
end of the ship. It was a white helicopter. They put me in with the pilot and I was flown back to the small
airport on Maui, near the Coconut Inn, where I was staying, as I worked on the writing of my first book,
Starshine.

Before he was President, there was an occasion in a large hotel in Los Angeles. The Clintons were
already heavily guarded with a whole group of Secret Service agents.

For my use as a sexual slave, I was trained to make love to married couples by always bringing the
focus back to them. "Isn't your wife beautiful! Isn't your husband strong," or, whatever statements would
strengthen their bond and love for each other, if they were to be kept together. When I got through
with couples they were totally enamoured with each other and hardly noticed when I dressed and left the
room. I was used in this way with the Clintons. There was usually cocaine, often a gift from someone they
knew, routed through me.

After the Clintons went to sleep I left. A man stepped toward me as I exited the room and escorted
me down a red carpeted hall, to the elevator, and down to the lobby, as he held my elbow and lower
forearm. At this point, another man took over, making a very smooth transition. I was pushed down into
a waiting limo (I think it was a black Mercedes), as the man hurried and slammed the door. I was taken
to the airport and the driver radioed ahead, and a man met us at the curb and hurried me onto my plane.
Now Clinton is President

Kelly had a school function or a friend's party at the Beverly Hilton. I hadn't seen her in awhile as
she was living in California and I was living on Kauai, but I was brought in to help her with "The Prez,"
who was then newly-elected Bill Clinton. He had a group of girls and women there and that night he
wanted only oral sex, along with chocolate and fruit slices. Afterwards, it was my job to redirect the girls
back into their social function so there would be no mix-ups.

Sex slaves were used to sexually service both male and female members of the White House when
our controllers called for it, and I was not to be exempt. Once when I was flown to the White House from
Hawaii, Hillary played what she called "the tease game." She tied me up so she could be safe, she said.
When she was through with me she looked at her gold watch, said she had to go, put on her dress and
left. I put on my clothes and headed out to the waiting limo to Henry.

Henry always wanted to know exactly what Hillary's verbal responses were to things I said to her
and he listened very carefully for speech patterning. They were trying to create a phrase of words that
would stop her dead in her tracks when she went to court for the Whitewater incident. They had been
planning this one even before Clinton took office. Henry knew and so did his people. They were trying to
destabilize the government by ousting the President. Their plan was that "A cornerstone will fall, and
further destabilize the American people. First Nixon, now Clinton, thus the people will lose faith in their
leaders and the democratic way of life. So they will want to change it and will lean toward World Order."
I knew in 1993, long before the Monica Lewinsky affair, that if Clinton was ousted, they had succeeded
again in their plan and movement toward the New World Order.

The programs I had for the White House were pretty well-worn and grooved. Henry often rode
with me in the limo to the White House if he hadn't had time to load me up beforehand. Sometimes, he
wanted to sharpen me up or check my systems. He often went to have a cup of coffee or a cigar while I
was doing the job. When I came out of the White House, flanked by Secret Service agents, I'd get into the
limo and he would ask me to repeat verbatim what was said. I'd tell him exactly what they said and how
they enunciated it. I could record not only what they said, but I could repeat it back just like they said it -
tone, inflection, and all. And from that, Henry and his boys could run a voice print; then, using it, they
developed a way to control people through their own language patterns. Henry put his cigar to his mouth
before saying, "If you can get their patterns, you can control their minds." They put me close to the
Clintons so they could obtain speech patterns, information about weaknesses they had and ammunition
to get Clinton thrown out of office. They would stop at nothing in their effort to chip away at the
Constitution and democracy.

Henry Kissinger hated Bill Clinton, but he especially hated Hillary. He wanted to publicly
humiliate and disgrace her by showing that she had illegal investments and that she lied. Henry said,
"People (the public) will be manageable after this is exposed."

Al Gore was easy for the Council because I believe he is a robot like me. Al Gore had me
perform oral sex on him. He didn't do cocaine, though. He adamantly refused. Henry said, "He's a robot
of choice."

I also had memories of experiences where I was at the White House with Hillary, Chelsea and a
famous female vocalist, involved in a sex ritual.

My personal belief, based on my experiences, is that over the years, more leaders were under
mind control. I believe it to be vitally important to dismantle the system that has created this, as well as
gain aid for the victims, but not to further punish or humiliate the victims who are in need of
professional help to heal. I know there has been corruption at the highest levels in the White House, and
whether compromised through blackmail, lack of spiritual integrity, or mind control, I believe the
Clintons are caught in a "Catch-22."

In a society where mind control is insidious, the whole of society is responsible in some way,
whether through ignorance, denial, spiritual disintegration or greed. To the extent that some of us are
not free, none of us are free. I believe it is God's perfect plan for those able persons to come to the aid of
those who are in need.

In the center of the flame there is a hollow place
and nothing can burn in this sheltered space.
For the fire builds a wall, scientific fact claims,
and insures a safe area in the midst of the flames.
And in the hurricane's fury there's a center of peace
where the winds of destruction suddenly cease.
And this same truth prevails in life's tribulations;
there's an island of calm in the soul's meditations.
A place that is quiet where we're shielded from harms
secure in the haven of a kind Father's arms,
where the hot flames of anger have no power to sear
and the high winds of hatred and violence and fear
lose all the wrath and their savage course
is softly subdued as faith weakens force.
So when the fires of life burn deep in your heart
and the winds of destruction seem to tear you apart
remember God loves you and wants to protect you.
So seek that small haven and be guided by prayer
to that place of protection within God's loving Care.
-- Helen Steiner Rice

"Every word of God proves true; he is a shield to tthose who take refuge in him."
-- Proverbs 30:5

Chapter 31

2008-12-10T17:18:00.000-06:00

Chapter Thirty-one: Weaponry Technology of the Future

Kissinger and Nixon Visit the Reagan White House

Nixon and Reagan talked a lot together. I know because I was there a number of times when that
happened. They even talked at the White House after Reagan became President. One time, Reagan was
sitting at his desk in the oval office when Kissinger escorted Nixon in. Kissinger greeted Reagan by
saying, "Mr. President, Dick is here to talk with you. He has some very useful information on foreign
policy that will help us." Then he added quietly, "Now I know as you do that no one is to know where this
information came from, but I thought you should be informed."

"Sure, have a seat Dick." Reagan said. Nixon smiled awkwardly as he held out his hand to Reagan.
Initially, Reagan didn't seem too happy, as if he had some reservation, but appeared to quickly
work through his feelings, and gathering more acceptance, reached out and shook Nixon's hand.

Nixon said, "I have information on some key foreign policy that needs to be implemented before
the year's end to insure smooth diplomatic relations with Russia and Saudi Arabia and a few other minor
European Countries." Standing there in his light brown suit, Nixon looked pretty nervous.

Kissinger said, "This information may be key to unlocking broader and deeper foreign relations,
especially with the Soviets."

Reagan leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. Then, he closed his eyes. I
could see what he did because Henry had placed me off to the side by the wall on a wooden bench, in my
"parked" mode, waiting for further direction.

"Russia will be an ally if we can provide the following." Kissinger said.

"Guns (munitions), corn and," Nixon added, following his comment with a laugh like this was
absurd or something, "they would like free surplus wheat and grain - whatever we have in the stockades.

We wouldn't have to go to any expense. These surpluses have already been subsidized by our
government, so there will be no further cost to us. It's all just a layout on paper with no money exchange,
just surpluses in exchange for information."

"What sort of information?" Reagan asked.

"The sort of information that is held in top secret abeyance. It will have to be approved by the
higher-ups." Nixon said, continuing, "If we don't agree, there could be dire consequences for our
country. The higher-ups said we have no idea the havoc that will be created if we don't comply with their
requests. There's little to lose - just some excess surpluses."

"So you're saying I need to authorize the transfer of these surpluses?"

"Yes, Sir," Kissinger said, "the others will take care of this information on their end. You need not
be worried with the details, they will be taken care of and if there are any loose ends, I will personally see
to it that they are wrapped up." He handed Reagan a piece of paper to sign. "We need your authorization
for the shipments."

Reagan put on his glasses, picked up a pen and signed the paper Kissinger set before him. "Dick, I
appreciate your help in this matter. Foreign policy always came so naturally for you and I appreciate
your continued interest." He leaned back in his chair again.

"Anything I can ever do to help." Nixon said, standing and offering his hand to Reagan again.
Then he turned to Kissinger, shook his hand and left saying he would see himself out the side door.
Henry sat down across from the President, leaned forward and with great seriousness, looked
down at his folded hands, "I don't have to tell you how damaging this would be to the American public if
it got out that Nixon was advising us on foreign policy."

"No, no of course not Henry. Look, I have a meeting at 10 with the White House Staff. I appreciate
your help with this foreign policy. We all have our strengths and weaknesses." He smiled apologetically
to Kissinger and reached out to shake his hand good-bye.

Henry stood up, shook Reagan's hand, completing the handshake by putting his other hand over
the top of their handshake. I don't know what that meant, if anything. Then Kissinger nodded to me and
we walked out to a waiting black limo. Lots of times in DC I waited in the limo for Henry while he
went in and out of places. We were all over the place. Henry had keys to lots of offices. I don't know why,
but he did.

Lots of times I sat in on the meetings Kissinger had with Reagan and others, so I could report
back to the Council (in a debriefing) accurately, exactly what was said and done at different meetings.
Arms Distribution - Guns for Drugs

Some countries wouldn't take anything except guns in exchange for their drugs. Reagan knew all
about it--Costa Rica, El Salvador, Jamaica, and other countries. Reagan cooperated with the Council
fully, doing everything they asked. He okayed American ships to meet with Soviet tankers to exchange
guns. Sometimes drugs were laundered through several foreign embassies so they couldn't be traced to
their original source and then the American guns would be transferred to Russia, China, Japan, etc.

The Council members were kingpins of drug coordination and money laundering down through
specific American corporations in order to get political favors and laws enacted in their favor to keep
their top companies. AT&T was one of them. The Council insured the financial success of these
companies so they could continue using them as fronts for their operations. The Council is at the top of
the powerbrokers. Each President went along with them or they are killed like JFK was.

My mind files were filled with information on guns, armories, and statistics on where the guns
were located and the inventory. Involved foreign dignitaries or leaders could access this information in
my mind files so they could know what was available to trade, then they would send me back with a
message regarding how much the gun supply could wield or buy in exchange for drugs. Then I would be
debriefed by the Council and prepared with a return message for the foreign leaders. From what I
witnessed, illicit drugs and gun running backed much of the American economy.

Reagan was not in any way unaware of the arms deals we made with foreign countries as he
publicly portrayed. I know because the Council sent many arms trade messages through me to him and
then he would give me the message and the Council would retrieve it through debriefing me. This was a
message I gave him from the Council: "Mr. President, the Council sends their amicable message to you.
Arms will go to Iraq in exchange for hostages." Sometimes after I delivered the recited message, Reagan
got really nervous and paced back and forth. But finally he would give his answer for me to take back to
the Council. Usually it was just a "yes." Lots of times Reagan made the decision without Bush's
knowledge. For some reason I felt like Bush really knew what was going on. Reagan always seemed so
uninformed, he never seemed to know what was happening and he made many decisions blindly without
knowing the details.

More on Guns and Drugs

There were wooden boxes of munitions on a dock that were to be loaded onto a large ship. I was
there to make sure the load of "sugar" got on safely and that payment was made. The men accepting the
shipment waited until the men in black police uniforms walked away and then they opened one of the
boxes and lifted guns, rifles, and hand grenades out of the packing. Packed on top were bags of sugar to
make it look like the whole shipment was sugar, but it was only a cover for what was really underneath.

This was a government operation - a highly camouflaged, covered up government operation. A group of
American officials were selling munitions to a nation we were at war with. It made the United States
government lots of money. They didn't even care that the guns were being used to kill our own soldiers.
Noriega was involved. It was a dangerous operation. The orders were that if there was any chance of
being caught, the shipment was to be thrown overboard. It was too risky to get caught.

There was also a naval officer that was involved. He was shaking hands with a man that I came
with and they were talking privately out of my earshot so I couldn't hear. The officer gave commands to
one of the members of the crew to unload the shipment onto the docks and then they rolled the cargo
down the docks and stacked it on large carts. I climbed aboard the ship and we left immediately. There
was a window of time that was opened to get in and out to complete the deal. It began at 0800. So we left
port immediately and were quickly underway. There were some kind of devices on board that rendered
our ship untrackable at sea, so that they could not be detected. This way no one would even know that
the United States ship had been to the port. Sometimes the big naval or other kinds of ships would
unload their cargoes onto smaller ships that would then go into the port to deliver the goods. Our
government had very dirty operations. I was sent to deliver messages, many of them in foreign languages
to whomever the delivery was going to.

Another time I was used in a drug operation, I was delivered aboard a large Navy ship to an
Admiral who was standing behind his desk giving directions to a lieutenant. The blue eyed, heavyset
admiral was dressed in a white uniform and hat with navy blue and gold trim. He had on black patent
leather shoes and was very brutal. I think his name was Brimhall or something like that. I was ordered to
give him oral sex and some of his ejaculate fell onto his shoe. For that he slapped me with the back of his
hand so hard that I fell backwards.

We were going out to sea and when we neared Mexico we went into port for "supplies," which
meant a drug transaction. There were transactions in the Caribbean, also usually aboard Navy ships. I
was on board to service the Admiral and then complete a drug transaction. The Navy ships went the
route and to destinations of a major drug cartel. What looked like the defense of our nation or training of
our troops was really drug transportation that made lots of money for the U.S. The Presidents were
usually well aware of this business. The revenue was justified as funding large projects deemed necessary
for American defense. It was all a vicious cycle of lies and manipulations.

I was sent ashore to meet "the man with the parrot" and was usually dressed appropriately for
him to recognize me. They dressed me with a parrot shirt to match the parrot man I was meeting. The
messages were always different; sometimes I told the man to meet us with the stuff at 0800 at a certain
latitude and longitude out at sea off this or that coast. Lots of the deals and the boarding of goods (drugs)
took place out at sea. This way no one could detect illegal drug trafficking, as there was no one to
monitor the transactions late at night, out in the middle of the ocean.

Everyone in the government that held any position of power was well aware of these drug
transactions and their importance to our country's economy. In part, this is what keeps America head
and shoulders above the world economically. These ships went all over the world Mexico, Caribbean,
Costa Rica, Haiti, Cancun, Cozumel, Cabo San Lucas, Panama, Brazil, even Germany and USSR.

For years, I was used off and on to carry messages. They used lots of different slaves for these
activities because, otherwise, someone could get familiar and be detected. I know because I overheard
them talking about that type of security and how important it was for the Lieutenant Colonel to widely
vary the "pigeons," used for messages. I was taken from my home late at night and boarded onto a ship,
did my assignment, and was returned back home late at night. I was just phased back into bed with my
husband, as if I'd never left. I was kept at Point Mugu or other bases in isolation, and then debriefed
before I was driven home in a sedan to Agoura Hills. Sometimes I was helicoptered to Point Mugu, but
always transported late at night. During the drug transports I was always assigned to top men on the
ships with orders to please them in any way they desired. Then I was usually taken into the Admiral's or
Captain's private quarters. These rooms were nice, but small, and I was told to wait for further
instructions or to have sex with him. There were portholes in the room and it was simple but very
expensively done, as far as the materials: nice wood, brass and usually decorated in red, white and blue.

Sometimes after sex I would sleep in his bed with him until it was time for the transaction. Then he
would wake me up and instruct me in what to do, what to wear, what to say. Sometimes there were palm
trees on the beaches where we dropped off a load of 'goods,' on a remote beach. It was always at a
different time, different location; so no one could detect or monitor what was occurring. Sometimes
the coast guard in certain locations was involved but not on a regular basis. They must have been
individually involved.

On many of these excursions, other factions would interrogate me in an attempt to find out
information. They would use bright lights, exhaust me, yell questions, withhold food and pull my hair or
take hold of my hair and smash my face into a desk in an attempt to gain information about my job, why
I wouldn't talk, who I was working for, endless questions. But nothing would come of it, because they
didn't know the keys and codes to access my mind file information, nor did I consciously know.
Some of the big deals I witnessed, involving more international figures, took place in the
Hawaiian Islands, like on Maui. And the deals involving Mexico took place in Mexico, often in Mazatlan.

While vacationing one year on Maui with my husband, I was taken away from him by men in suits, put
on a commercial airline by two Secret Service agents and flown to a location like Jamaica or Costa Rica
to deliver a message. I was given a clever disguise, dressed in a tourist costume - a fruit patterned skirt
and blouse, with a big straw hat with fruit on top of it, and made to look like an overweight old lady. The
place I was taken to was about an hour's drive from the airport by limo, and I was delivered through a
dirty and poverty-stricken town full of dark-skinned people, to a harbor seaport, then taken down to the
docks to make the deal. This way the person I was meeting on the ship could simply cut the deal and
leave by ocean without ever needing to be on land. There were palm trees by the ocean and the coastline
area was pretty much uninhabited toward the port. It was a rocky seacoast in many areas with few sandy
beaches. I was instructed to deliver the message only to the man in the white uniform who took a hold of
my left hand and elbow and asked me if I was lost. A man in a white Naval uniform and hat brought me
on board the large ship, momentarily, to receive the message I delivered, "Sir, the bird is flying north."
Then he quickly shuffled me off the boat and the Secret Service agents took me away by limo and I was
flown back to Maui. I was kept in isolation, without food or water for a day, before I was returned by my
husband's side at the pool where we were vacationing at the Hyatt Regency in Maui.

Weaponry Technology of the Future

While money was made during those days from the sale of weapons, the Council said guns and
munitions would be obsolete by the year 2000. The frequency warfare technology they possess will make
guns and munitions powerless because those wielding guns will have their brainwave frequencies altered
by the new weaponry to such a degree that they won't be able to think to commit a violent act. Society is
being kept unaware of this until these self-appointed overseers of our world have completely stepped up
the mind control within the populace. Then the people won't care about having obsolete weapons
because they will be under the total lull and control of specific, targeted electromagnetic frequencies.
Individuals won't be able to commit crimes against the populace. My controllers spoke about this as,
"creating peace on earth, contemporary style." (For more information on this still classified technology
read: Angels Don't Play This HAARP, Nick Begich Ph.D.)

Kissinger Displays His Robot Technology

Over the years, Henry had me programmed to deliver information regarding the mind control
robot technology to different groups of men. These meetings took place my whole life. He or a
spokesman introduced me and explained to the audience, which were usually small, pre-tested groups,
that I would deliver a very powerful message.

But, the most important message they were eventually to take away with them was that I was a
human robot delivering highly technical information and that this was to be the technology of the future.
While I was being introduced, I sat at the front table looking straight ahead, waiting in "park
mode." Then I went to the front and initially explained, "Due to the inherent leap in technology, what
you are about to see and witness is very real. Along those lines it would be most appreciated if you would
hold all of your questions until the end and our moderator will be more than happy at that time to field
any questions you might have. Thank you and now we'll begin." Certainly, I was delivering this message
verbatim, as preprogrammed and couldn't have thought on my own to answer any questions.

And so I began, "The history of controlling man is old. Could we have the screen turned on
please?" I asked the man at the projector.

"As you can see, man was attempting to control his fellow man even in the cave man days.
Actually this attempt for control goes back even further." Meanwhile the moderator flipped to a slide
showing androgynous man pulling a woman by the hair where he wanted her to go. "So," I continued,
"man's control of man is ancient. What is on the cutting edge of technology today is what we choose to
call, 'harnessing the mind.' Who among us wouldn't like to be able to have instant recall? Or to be able to
read and retain information or documents." At this point they flashed slides pertaining to whatever
career paths these men were involved in and I had documents pertaining to each field, e.g., legal
documents for attorneys, medical reports for doctors, case histories for psychologists, account ledgers for
bankers.

"Who wouldn't like to have at your fingertips all the millions of minute details we find we need
everyday to function efficiently in our places of employment? Gentlemen, you are not alone in your
needs and desires. Since I have not seen a single hand in the room raised, I take this to mean that you,
too, could highly benefit from this new state-of-the-art technology in the future of mankind's ability to
think clearly, efficiently, and above all, with complete accuracy."

"Sound too good to be true? You will be pleasantly surprised to find that this technology is not
only true, but you also could benefit from its use. Other corporations, (or if it was a professional group,
I'd mention doctors, dentists, lawyers, etc.) around the country are at this time utilizing many facets of
this state-of-theart technology. The computer will one day soon be hardware of the past and the
companies that have this new technology will be among those on the leading edge. It will be impossible
to compete with individuals or corporations who are currently adapting to our new modes of
technology."

"Now, I'm sure you didn't get to your current level of success by using outdated modes of
operation. Why no, I'm sure each of you was among the first to own the latest in computer technology.
That is what sets you apart from business people (doctors, lawyers, CEO's, etc.) who did not have the
foresight that you had to opt for the latest technology has to offer."

After listening to this whole spiel, they were taken to their first demo, and afterwards they were
asked to fill out a brief questionnaire. They were asked to fill it out in order to insure the perfection of
future presentations. The questions were slanted toward gathering data -)n each participant's attitude,
openness, etc. They were also told they had the right to remain anonymous; however, they were told
there was no risk due to the fact that no one else would have access to these questionnaires.
As a final note, I said, "And to thank you, we will be sending every person who takes the time to
fill out this questionnaire a very special booklet we've been privy to call, "How To Insure Success in
Business: Without Burnout." So gentlemen, please loosen your ties, sit back, relax and enjoy the final
portion of today's presentation.

At which time, they were shown some more slides and given a little more information.

After 12 such sessions, if their returned questionnaires kept indicating they were "remaining on
track," they were introduced to the higher level of being let in on the secret. Then they were told that I
was "a robot" and they too could own one, at very little cost to them. At that point they were asked to,
"just sign here for more information and one of our representatives will be glad to further assist you."
These demonstrations took place all over the world, for all different professions, including the
scientific research and medical communities. Even as a child of eight, Henry said I demoed so well and
had such an enormous impact on audiences that they would have their mouths gaping open, and Henry
was so proud of himself. By the time I was eighteen, I had spoken to groups all over the world.
Over time I went to "mini-conventions" for people who owned slaves, where slave tips, slave toys,
slave trades, etc. were exchanged amongst this certain group of men. "Men in the know" is how they
referred to themselves, who met to share their latest information.

I was there to hand out brochures before I was demonstrated. People loved the continual line of
programmed jokes that I spewed out and thought it was hilarious that I was handing out my own
brochure, miming like 'a perfect robot.' At times both men and women were in attendance. There was
some other business I was promoting, initially - not mind-controlled slaves - but that was what really
was being promoted under cover at these meetings. Certain pre-selected men were given large wooden,
golden keys, each displaying a phrase or word to unlock me. These individuals were allowed to unlock
and use me for the evening at pre-specified times. It was explained to these so-called gentlemen that
these "keys" only worked for this one night. It was further explained that due to the kaleidoscopic
programming effect, that the keys would revolve a band on the outside of my skull and would stop in just
the right place so the eyes of the personality specifically keyed would lock in each and every time. I think
those men who were given keys were the only ones allowed to know the true nature of my mind control
programming. They must have been interested in purchasing "their own." But publicly acceptable
business also took place at these events parallel to this subterranean line of business, so that money was
made from all angles.

In later years, Kissinger used the movie Working Girl as a scramble in an attempt to keep these
memories from being clear to me. It was not only used for me but for lots of other corporate robots like
me. Henry said it should sufficiently remedy any problems or questions... should any of us robots begin
to remember.

"The kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and men of violence take it by force. "
-- Matthew 11:12
"Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he comes."
-- Luke 12:37

Chapter 30

2008-11-26T14:33:00.001-06:00

Chapter Thirty: UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute

Is It East or West?

I experienced many, many episodes of brainwashing, mind control, electroshock and tortures of
the mind at the University of California at Los Angeles, Neuropsychiatric Institute in Westwood. Their
involvement was the government's insurance that I would remain functional and amnestic of my use. Dr.
Louis Jolyon 'Joly' West's horrific expertise was involved so that I could be used at the highest levels over
the years without risk of my breaking down and remembering. Henry sent me with messages to give Dr.
West, with instruction in regard to things within me that he wanted checked out. Bob Hope didn't have
that connection, only Henry had access to West. I reported there for years but began going regularly after
Craig got into University of Southern California Dental School in 1973 and we made the connection in
Westwood with Dr. Milo Brooks, my original childhood pediatrician.

Nurses there checked me and wrote notes in regard to my pulse, eye movement, foot responses,
etc. In an attempt to scramble and confuse my conscious mind as to who Dr. West actually was, he would
cross his arms and point in both directions saying, "Is it east or is it west." And even now when someone
asks me for directions and mentions east or west I become momentarily confused and can't give them
the directions. Dr. West also programmed me to the red and green freeway on and off ramp signals, by
hypnotically suggesting that when I saw the sign upon entering Westwood it would make me switch to
the personality who had the information and knew where to go to report into the hospital. After my visit,
when I saw the signal on my way home, the sign was to remind me to forget what happened.

I was never allowed to walk near or ever act like I knew Dr. West when I saw him walking in the
corridor of the Neuropsychiatric Institute. I was instructed to walk by him with no recognition
whatsoever. He was a very large, heavy man, the "big wig" around there, and seemed to be in charge of
everything and everybody. I was programmed to report there to see his doctors for many years. There
was a younger doctor who put me in an examination room and did lots of neurological testing on me and
checked my responses to make sure I was still reacting within the normal range. He also directed me to
walk into the hall and go into a bathroom and wait for him. When he arrived he had sex with me and
afterwards gave me the suggestion that I wouldn't remember.

There was a room with a two-way window/mirror. After awhile I knew there were others watching
from the other side of the two-way mirror, since the doctor testing and asking me questions would
occasionally glance up at the window/mirror as if to communicate to those watching - "see, I told you,"
or "pay attention." They asked me lots of questions and at times I was displayed so other doctors could
see how I worked. I was seen as a high-level success since I was so split that I could be used in many
different modes without conscious awareness. I had actually been directed to enroll in the study of
psychology at Pepperdine University in Malibu. They were concerned that, if what I'd been privy to
hearing there at the NPI leaked into my conscious mind, they could have problems. So they had me get
my degree in psychology and study enough to make sense should my vast reservoir of psychiatric
knowledge and jargon leak into conscious awareness.

They had to check me more often after my accidents in 1985 and 1987. During the time I was a
student at Pepperdine University, I was more accessible to the Malibu and Point Mugu areas, and so,
available to Reagan at a moment's notice in the Malibu area when he was in California. Occasionally Dr.
West would slip into an examining room when the younger doctor was examining me. He explained that
there were some things he wanted to see for himself. He was arrogant with the young doctors and very
authoritarian. I heard him make condescending remarks about psychiatrists and clinical psychologists as
being beneath his level of expertise, since he was an MD neuropsychiatrist. He thought my therapist in

Westwood, Stuart Perlman, Ph.D. was uninformed and easily controlled in my therapy in 1988-91,
since Stuart didn't consider the biochemical aspects of my case. I reported to NPI on an irregular basis
when I was told to report and I took Kelly there when instructed. As my functioning level decreased
when my early childhood memories began leaking back into my conscious mind, I was instructed to
report more often to UCLA-NPI. They knew the chemical combinations to shut me down at night so that
I couldn't access certain portions of my brain and memory during dream state, which I had begun to do.
That was why they had me take halcyon with a glass of wine every night during my term of therapy with
Stuart. Whatever this chemical combination was, the nurse told me to, "take 1/2 or 1/4 of a halcyon
tablet followed immediately with a glass of wine, preferably white, and you'll notice immediate
sleepiness and will fall into a very deep, peaceful sleep."

Then a doctor came back into the room after the nurse left, and said, "Repeat the directions to
me." So I did and he said, "Exactly right. You're to follow these directions every day in every way in order
to feel better. You will not, I repeat, you will not jump off of any building. You will not harm yourself in
any way. Do you understand my directions?"

Eyes closed and listening intently to his instructions from a deep trance state, I nodded yes.
He said, "Fine, you may go home now."

And I got up, walked out of the hospital and all the way through the campus to my car that I
parked near the library. When I drove past the stop sign on the freeway on-ramp it reminded me to "tuck
this experience into the deepest recesses of your mind," and I returned home.

When the memory of events I was programmed to forget began flooding into my conscious
awareness, I began responding by wanting to cut, burn myself or jump from the top of a high-rise
building in Los Angeles. I just thought I must be really psychologically disturbed to want to do
something like that. I simply could not fathom what was wrong with me and why these selfinjurious
commands continually caused me to feel like compulsively hurting or killing myself. And I had no way of
knowing that my controllers were not actually ready for me to do myself in, at least not until my
assignments with them were completed.
Mind Control Tune-ups

There was a surgeon at UCLA who instructed me to drive to the hospital to have sex with him. He
had dark hair, lightly dark skin, brown eyes and hairy arms. He was 6' tall, of good build and on the
young side. I was instructed to meet him at the doctors' cafeteria. Usually he had on his surgery greens or
blues and we would have lunch together. He was a vegetarian, and I watched him eat and later he had
sex with me in a small bathroom in the Neuropsychiatric Institute. The bathrooms in the NPI were
unisex and he would open the door, wave his hand for me to pass inside, and then he would quickly slip
in behind me and whisper, "shhh," so I wouldn't say anything. He switched the light off and began
feeling me all over and he usually preferred entering me from behind. As programmed, I smiled and
laughed and acted pleased no matter what. He liked for me to give him oral sex in his red sports car, but
not when the top was down. For programming purposes, he jingled keys in front of my face and then
he'd take me out and sometimes we walked in Westwood or went to lunch in a back booth at The
Bratskeller restaurant. He had a good laugh when I told him about my therapy with Stuart. He said,
"Dressed in little shorts like that and looking innocent like you do, how do you think he can keep his
mind on business?" I laughed and told him Stuart didn't understand. Truth was, Stuart wasn't sexually
addicted.

This UCLA doctor took me to different rooms in the NPI for reconditioning and "tune-ups," he
called them. One day he lifted me up on the examining table and I was giggling. He said they were taking
real good care of me, keeping all my parts oiled and lubricated to keep me in good working condition.
There were large tube-like machines that they put me into. When they closed the door, shutting me
inside, it made a vacuumlike sound as it closed tightly and it kind of echoed inside. I lay on my back and
there was a small square mirror, mounted over my face. I think it was suppose to make normal, regular
customers feel safe or less claustrophobic. Although this doctor stayed with me during the horrible
tests, he was kind to me most of the time. I didn't like the tests, but he told me what the doctors would do
and when. One time two doctors used a scalpel and cut a small incision behind my right ear for
something. I didn't know exactly what they were doing to me. They were always testing, probing and xraying
me. They must have a stack of records on me a mile high.

They put me into a machine that was like a cylinder that spun me. I saw lights, and color; blues,
pinks, yellow, white, coupled with sound and electroshock. I watched and recorded in my photographic
memory as the doctors in white coats mapped my forehead and face and attached wires to me. At this
event there was a whole room of people sitting still like zombies, all with our heads totally mapped out.
Each mind-controlled individual has code numbers that follow them no matter what research projects
we were assigned to. They were studying our brains in all different contexts, in all different
environments, with different stimulation. They were also studying the genetic effects. They studied a
wide and varied range of the effect of environment and genes on a persons brain function, their life
function, their longevity, and their productivity. They monitored brain function by reading EEG
printouts taken from electrodes placed on my head, and registered and mapped lots of data that was
inputted.

Mind Control Technology of the Future

There were lots of times they laid me on a gurney and injected me with drugs, and then the
doctors talked to me while I was under the influence. There were many doctors at UCLA who knew all
about mind control and were well-trained for the technology of the future. They were told they were
specially selected because of their intellectual abilities "to participate in an effort at world peace in the
only method known to man." They were trained in the latest methods in how to program and operate
under mind control. There were lots of doctors involved, different ones at different times in different
places. I was "demonstrated and modeled" often over years for their learning, understanding, and
financial benefit. There were demonstrations for doctors, scientists, prison officials, and other
professionals who were selected to receive this top-secret mind control information.

Reagan was involved in this endeavor for years, ever since he was Governor and because he was
cooperative and "went along with the program." Then in later years, as President, the amount of people
who witnessed the demonstrations grew as the plan for the New World Order grew closer to
implementation. Those who were brought in to see the mind control technology could never go back to
not knowing. They needed an army of professionals to carry out the plan and the numbers of people
involved increased dramatically in the 80's after Reagan and Bush got into office and cooperated to the
fullest.

During Reagan's administrations the doctors at UCLA did tests and demonstrations in front of
other doctors explaining how I worked, but they called this "studies" of the mind or brain. They didn't
refer to any of it as mind control, but instead gave it the catchy name "behavior modification." They had
a circular arena where they conducted the demonstrations while I laid on a table or sat in a chair naked,
responding like a puppet to their cues. The demonstrations involved simple mind control techniques as
well as telekinesis. Once the doctor directed me to bend a spoon across the room with the power of my
mind. They told me to see the spoon bend in my mind and to focus solely on this thought to see it, and
hear the words that played in my mind; then the spoon would bend and sometimes it would even move
and fall off a table from across the room. Once I was programmed to hold out my hand with a key in it
and with my mind I bent the key. I curled it all up while I held my palm and fingers still, my mind totally
focused on the key. Most people have no idea the power a focused mind has. The doctors watching would
gasp. They also programmed me to start a fire from across the room with my mind.

Large grants were given to doctors who wanted to do further research into the power of the
mind or the mind/body connection, or studies of the brain. During one such demonstration, a group of
doctors witnessed the presenting doctor give me the hypnotic suggestion that I would not be burned. He
held a lighted match to my arm, and just as he said, I didn't get burned. One particular doctor filed by at
the end of the demonstration to get a closer look at my arm to see if, indeed, I was not burned. After
viewing my unburned arm, tears welled in his eyes, and in Catholic fashion he performed the sign of the
cross on himself and said, "Forgive us," and walked away.

Over the years, most scientists and doctors didn't respond as this sympathetic, compassionate,
scientific human being did. I believe that many were uninformed as to the level of the mind control
experiments and usages, and did not know exactly how the mind control was accomplished. But my
controllers were well aware of these technologies and used them to have me appear as "supernatural" to
people they wanted to influence. They could pre-program in these manifestations and have them occur
seemingly spontaneously without outside interference. This was how they rigged so-called miracles for
the Pope and other Catholic leaders at the Vatican. They programmed in 'miracles' like making my hands
bleed at the palms like Christ did or making me speak in high Latin tongue to the Pope or Bishops,
delivering messages that dropped them to their knees, kissing their rosaries or necklaces or my feet. I
didn't know what they were saying to me because I didn't really know Latin. They, like many others, were
open to these miracles delivered to them on what they thought were the 'wings of angels' (me) to
influence them. They thought I was some oracle delivering God's messages or angelic messages. I even
delivered messages to Reagan with a religious theme, but it only worked on those who were religious.

I went between UCLA and Point Mugu Naval Base often for this technology. Point Mugu had large
banks of audio equipment, dolphin tanks, and a pool, and UCLA had brain-testing equipment, MRI, and
virtual reality gear.

"For wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and many there are who enter that
way." -- Matthew 7:1

Chapter 29

2008-11-07T21:28:00.001-06:00

Chapter Twenty-nine: Back to the Future

More High Tech Classified Projects

In 1985, after a head-on collision and the ensuing healing process necessitated by the auto
accident, my direction and course were irrevocably altered. I left my position in my husband's dental
practice, returned to college and attended Pepperdine University in Malibu to begin classes to fulfill the
requirements for a degree in Psychology. But as always, in addition to the coursework leading to my
degree was an alternate, hidden agenda, planned and orchestrated by my controllers. Along with
attending classes at Pepperdine, I was used in the Malibu area for experiments that furthered
parapsychology research, as well.

At Pepperdine there were experiments and research on the nature of higher consciousness, how
the brain intercepts thought, why some brains process higher thought and others don't, how pure diet
and water effects the brain, the effects of meditation on the brain, remote viewing and out-of-body
experiments. I was programmed to meet with a group in a small room at the University where we
watched movies. My attendance was carefully tied to my use in the projects and with Ronald Reagan.
There were others in the room robotically watching the movies. They treated us like monkeys.

Telepathic Experiments

Among other things at Pepperdine, tests were done on studying and learning in altered states of
consciousness. I began reading endless books on psychic phenomena and began being psychically
trained and further experimented on. Each day at lunch I reported to the large cross that graces the
hillside at the University, in order to sit in the small area inside and go into a meditative state. I did this
each and every day and felt as if I was communicating with the whales and dolphins in the vast ocean
that spanned the panoramic view from that location.

Part of the experiments focused on telepathic communication and my controllers were sending
messages to me via satellite systems to see if I could pick them up. They tasked me with these
assignments that had to be performed in the ocean or near the ocean so it would be easier to pick up the
telepathic messages sent over the airwaves that they were broadcasting to me. There were times I
consciously thought I was just going to go for a drive, to have the day to myself, when in reality I was
instructed and directed to different locations. One day I drove into a remote canyon high in the hills
above Malibu. I positioned myself on top of a mountain in my beach chair and sat all by myself and read
a book on Edgar Cayce. When I looked to the sprawling mountaintops, my eyes focused on all sorts of
satellite dishes and instrumentation on the hill in front of me. After spending a few hours there I
returned to my home in Agoura Hills. Later that day, the phone rang. I picked it up and a man asked me
questions before saying, "We see you picked up the message about where to go today and followed our
instructions impeccably. Good work and be waiting for the next set of instructions." Click, he hung up.
Robotically I hung up the phone and went on like nothing had happened. Immediately this slice of reality
submerged itself deep within the programmed recesses of my mind, and was kept there until a later time
when I was reaccessed.

There were many places I was telepathically directed to in response to messages sent to me by my
controllers. Often I was led to believe that incarnate guides and masters were leading me when I was
really being led by the men who were instilling these thoughts in order to direct me to various places
where they wanted me.

Further Adventures Along the California Coast

The American government seemed to be willing to sell anything, including children, to foreign
countries in order to gain monies to fund the mind control and other research projects. Reagan
presented it saying that it was the only way we would survive - that we would all be killed by nuclear
destruction at the hands of these "foreign morons" unless we were able to have more control, and the
mind control projects insured American safety. He made it sound like something the United States had
to have to stay a safe and free nation. But the Council knows the bigger picture lies beyond what Reagan
thought was "national security." It was really an international takeover by a group of megalomaniacs
who have decided to insure the future for their own genetically advanced progeny. From my perspective,
it had nothing to do with American freedom or safety. But Reagan was a pawn and didn't have all the
information or know about the Council's higher agenda. If he had, he would have known the United
States was being duped.

Reagan sent for me and I was picked up, once again at noontime, while I was 'meditating' under
the cross at Pepperdine, in order to be taken for demonstration to men from all over. They were usually
small groups because Henry or the Council was working that angle, too, putting together different
foreign scientists or foreign leaders who would naturally be competitive so they could get the most out of
them. Often Reagan, or a military officer, would explain the project to them as a group and they would
toy with their national pride and play off their natural competitiveness and ego. Then after the meeting,
one of our people would take them aside, into a separate room and tell them we were interested but that
such and such a country (Saudi Arabia for example) had more to offer. They worked them like that to get
more cooperation in hopes that maybe the leader or scientist would offer more favors, resources,
connections, etc., so we would get even more out of the deal. Henry really knew how to work people, and
he knew how to be very convincing. He told Reagan and others that it was all for national security,
American safety, and these men all believed it, they all thought Henry was so smart and so pro-
American, but he never really was. He just talked that way to get people to do what he and the Council
wanted. "Reagan isn't a robot, but he might as well be," Kissinger said. I'm not so sure.

During the 80's I was keyed to a computer in my bedroom, where I began to get instructions at
home from the Council. I didn't think I was very good at computers since I'd taken a computer class and
felt I really couldn't learn the technology. But while the "I," the conscious part of my personality, was
unaware of my computer proficiency, other parts were completely in tune! Upon awakening, before I
brushed my teeth, I was instructed to report to my computer. It displayed a symbol if I had instructions
and was to continue for further instructions. They made it simple for me to access. There were codes for
'regulars,' people I met with weekly, like some of the movie stars in Malibu and Beverly Hills. I was given
schedules and lists of people to meet, or to be expecting to meet, and dates to be at certain places at
certain times, so I would know to have my hair done, nails polished, what time, location, etc. I didn't any
longer have to report to the room at the Holiday Inn; I could get my instructions from home. After the
mid 80's, my controllers began accessing me more directly without Craig being so much in charge. They
took more direct control.

Often my instructions were to wait in meditation beneath the cross at the University. I was used
heavily during this time, and spent less and less time with my family. Men in suits or men that looked
and dressed like they were gardeners at Pepperdine would come up to me and give me messages while I
was in a meditative state. Later, men in suits would pick me up, tapping me in code on my shoulder two
or three times, after which I would get up and go with them. This particular time, the men drove me to
weapons warehouses where I delivered detailed messages to arms dealers and recorded their responses
to take back. Lots of foreign countries' arms 'deals' took place in warehouses, at least the original
dealings. After that I would take the message back and deliver it that night wherever I was directed. Then
I would return home in the evening to my family, having thought I had 'studied' in the university library
the whole day. Fat chance!

Mind Control Adventures

An Iran-Contra arms trade took place in a warehouse in Santa Monica. Nothing was ever to have
been traced back to Reagan because it was to have been a covert operation to raise funds for other
projects, "research projects." They felt justified in selling arms to anyone, including our enemies, because
they felt that the days of armed conflict were over. Instead we could now win wars using our high tech
psychological, chemical and electronic warfare, if we ever needed to, and be able to use mind control
technologies to insure the enemy laid down their weapons. But in the meantime, we could sell them
comparatively obsolete weapons and make money for furthering the research in mind control.

Lots of drug and arms deals took place in warehouses in California, especially in and near Santa
Monica and Malibu. A lot of foreign connections were made in order to increase the funds for the
continuation of the research projects. And they used the mind-controlled robots they had created to earn
money for them. Many, many people are under mind control and have been working for them for years -
men and women who are dentists, attorneys, stockbrokers, doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists,
politicians, bankers, corporate heads, engineers, newspaper editors or owners, nurses, teachers,
principals, etc. etc. etc. And all these programmed people are used to further "the cause," each placed in
strategic positions for use by the Council.

The technology available is so advanced that most people couldn't even dream of it. It far
surpasses anything yet seen on sci-fi movies or read about in books -- total automation, even of people.
They put mind control operatives into jobs that included travel and then used them
internationally to further their cause. They felt there was no way that they couldn't succeed since so
many are now under their complete control and are able to be controlled by universal signals, enabling
them to put certain words, phrases, or symbols into the current media (movies, television, newpapers,
music, etc.) and the mind-controlled robots are programmed to step up their pace. Certain words have
been paired through programming to different tasks these robots are assigned to do. So all they have to
do is to hear the word combinations, tones, frequency, etc., and they can all be commanded within a very
short time to carry out their programmed instructions.

Fun in the Sun?

At other times I would report to Zuma Beach and think I spent the day relaxing in the sun by
myself. In actuality I climbed out of my beach chair and walked out into the surf, swam into the waves,
sometimes for long distances, easily and effortlessly, as my programming commanded, to meet a boat
just outside the wave break. A man in the boat who helped me on board, dripping wet, handed me a
towel and once said, "My, but you must be an important person." I couldn't comprehend or respond
because I was in total program and this event 'wasn't really happening.'

He drove me to Point Mugu and apologized when due to large surf conditions he couldn't get in closer
when we neared the rear entrance. I told him not to worry that I was used to swimming long distances
and was adept at swimming waves. I told him I'd just use the waves to get me in easily. I had a program
that rendered my body incapable of feeling the temperature of the water, so I could enter very cold water
and not get cold. So I dove off the boat in my bikini and swam to shore. There were some pens and an
underwater screen that I knew to swim around to get to the shore. I walked onto the beach area, to the
cement and the chain link fence, then waited until a man in a white naval uniform let me in and escorted
me to an outside shower they used when they swam. He took me inside to a bathroom, where I found a
naval uniform, white blouse with navy blue and gold trim, and a white skirt and navy blue heels neatly
piled up for me to wear. My hair was trimmed every 4 weeks so that I could just run my fingers through
it and it would look okay, since it was naturally curly. The same officer took me through an area where
they used a metal scanner on me for security purposes and I had to pass through a light monitor and did
so with flying colors. Then I was escorted in to see whomever I was to report to - an officer,
Commander, Reagan or sometimes Bush. But this time I was there to meet Reagan and to be
demonstrated to a group of foreign scientists they wanted to recruit for research.

I was put into a clear cylindrical capsule, maybe for show, and then Reagan showed these men
how I reacted upon command. He demonstrated the use of my mind files by quickly asking me for
detailed information and descriptions of schematics. I performed up to speed, dictating to them the
elaborate 3-D holographic craft images that I was viewing in my head. All the men clapped. In the
beginning they had to condition me to the clapping because it flipped me out and switched me, and then
I would be surprised to find myself where I was. Usually after the demonstrations were finished, Reagan
would limo me out with him and we went for a quick sexual encounter somewhere, locally. Later, they
put me into another car and dropped me back at the beach, where I changed once again into my bikini.
Lying on my beach chair, enjoying the California sun, I obeyed my program that commanded, "Slowly
come out of the meditative state."

Later when I returned home I would stand in front of my computer and hit the buttons I was
programmed to select in order to type in a message or answer from Reagan or whomever I had been
with, so Henry would get the message. I don't know how it worked but there would often be an instant
reply typed back on the screen, coupled with a command to "erase the day, that it was a relaxing day in
the sun and surf."

Working Girl

There were times I was taken by the life guard boat to Point Mugu and escorted to a Captain's
quarters to be used. They gave me other clothes to wear and then helicoptered me to Reagan's Ranch,
usually for meetings with foreign leaders. And when Henry wasn't there (he often wasn't), I was there
standing in for him, but the attendees thought I was a secretary to Reagan. Reagan relied on information
I had in my mind files, put there for his access by Kissinger. Kissinger ran large portions of the foreign
diplomacy of the United States Government by sending me to these meetings.

Over the years when people like Rebozo, Sinatra and Bush wanted to take me out (kill me), Henry
would stop it because he and the Council had worked years, even decades, to set up the connections I had
with people. Henry had key robots in key situations so that everyone was working in perfect three-part
harmony. I had been put close to U.S. government leaders, British royalty, Margaret Thatcher, and
leaders of other countries, and these relationships were "seasoned with time," Henry would say, and so
he wanted to keep me in as long as possible. Henry said these relationships were priceless because these
contacts knew and trusted me over time, with no ill effects, so in the future they would share information
with me about more important things without worry.

Henry had me tested often, especially after the accident and when I began psychotherapy full
time. I was breaking down but they were building me back up in other directions without my missing a
beat in my assignments. My personalities who were close to foreign leaders had not had the accident and
were cut off from that experience. Instead they enjoyed total health and well being in order to continue
their work. Different personalities had been created for different leaders so Henry could easily instill new
information or messages, yet retain the personality as it had been created especially for the individual
leaders.

I was flown by helicopters that took off from naval ships out at sea, into foreign countries to be the
connection maker for munitions or drug transactions with various countries - Columbia, Bolivia, Mexico,
Jamaica - I can't remember them all. But I was dressed in a military uniform and flown in helicopters
down into these places to deliver messages, usually to a man in uniform who was heavily guarded. But
here again, they didn't have a clue that our country possessed weaponry that looked like anything but
weapons - that couldn't even be seen: invisible weapons that could drop people to their knees and
render them incapable of functioning. No need to kill them, just send targeted energy and control their
brain wave activity.

I remembered a time when the pilot called to a foreign bank to see if the money was in the account
before he would release the sale of weapons. Money was made not only on the sale of the weapons, but
even more on the financial arrangements made that created huge revenues from the interest on the loans
to desperate countries, willing to pay whatever it took to save the lives of their people. So they paid top
dollar for the weapons and paid interest on the loans in addition. All this was planned, down to the
instigation of wars that would create an international weapons market. It also kept nations busy buying
obsolete weapons America said were the best. We kept them looking the other way as we were secretly
using the copious profits from the sales to fund more mind control research, so the plan for the world
takeover could be implemented. All this was done by very smart and manipulative people who used very
strategic planning. Saudi Arabia and other foreign countries inadvertently funded a lot of NASA research
and, when there were arms embargoes or other embargoes, all it meant was the price was forced up and
the United States made even more money.

Point Mugu Demonstrations

After demonstrations at the circular arena in Point Mugu, Reagan left in a limo with Secret
Service agents flanking him heavily because of the assassination attempt. I was escorted out and after the
agents put Reagan into the back of the limo, one of the agents took the passenger spot in the front seat
opposite the driver and gave him instructions on where to go. Then, after some of the agents left to
report to their next duty, a remaining agent opened the back door and put me in next to Reagan and we
were off. The glass was put up between the front and back seats before I got in.

Reagan became very good at saying things to me in order that I might feel like he was being polite,
when he was really getting around the fact that I wasn't allowed to eat. One day we were taken to a fish
restaurant in Malibu on a Monday, when the restaurant was normally closed, but they opened it for the
opportunity of serving the President. Reagan went in first with a phalanx of Secret Service agents
flanking him on all sides. You couldn't even see him in the group and after he was seated in a secluded
booth in the back I was brought in and they told the waiter I was his visiting niece. With a towel on his
arm, the waiter asked Reagan, "And what will the young lady be eating this afternoon?"
Reagan looked at me and I said, "Thanks, but I've already eaten."

Then he made some joke about it as he began eating his fish, carrots, rice and salad. I sat and
smiled at him while he ate, and listened intently. When he was finished, the Secret Service took care of
the bill and he was escorted back out to the limo in the same way he went into the restaurant - then they
put me back beside him. Our next destination was a grouping of small rustic cottages along Pacific Coast
Highway. The driver drove around back and the Secret Service agents went to the room first, opened it,
checked it out, and then came back to the car. opened my door, escorted me in, shut the door and I
waited, parked in robotic mode, while they Reagan in.

After the agents left the room, Reagan commented that he liked the place, that it reminded him of
the Ranch. He took my right hand and asked, "Should we do our dance?"

"You bet," I answered. So he twirled me around several times, for programming purposes and
then laid me on the bed. I was wearing a white pantsuit with fancy tassels on the front and short white
boots. He had given me a Reagan watch to wear for the day, but later the agents took it away. Reagan
loved the watch. He unbuttoned my shirt as he lay on the bed next to me and went directly for my belly
button and began tracing his fingers around my navel. Waiting for my programming to kick in, he laid on
his back for me to satisfy him. Afterwards, he took a short nap and then sent me out to notify the agent
who was waiting in the limo. The agent snapped to attention and directed the driver to get into
position, and they escorted Reagan back to the limo.

We took off down Pacific Coast Highway again and they stopped to drop me off at a gas station in
Malibu, where I met a man in an unmarked car who drove me back to the cross at Pepperdine. When he
let me out he said, "Weren't you meditating?" In response, I robotically walked under the cross and sat
there again. He yelled, "Not too long!" and drove off. I stood up, totally unaware I had been with anyone,
thinking I had only been in deep meditation for a long time. I found my car and drove through the
canyon home where, with the help of our maid, I prepared dinner. I was pretty out of it.

I was used with Reagan hundreds of times if not more, ever since I was a teenager. He knew that I
had to have time in between when he used my mind files for demonstration or information and sex. So
having a leisurely lunch provided the time necessary. A cue or signal had to be given to shut down the
mind files and then, from that time on, a certain amount of time had to elapse before sex. Once he was
President, the Pepperdine cross served as a pick-up point where I was taken to cabins, cottages, or out of
the way homes to be with him sexually after the Council had input me with information for him via my
home computer. Many messages were phoned to me by Bob, or more often Henry, when they were of a
political nature, because political details were more complicated and took more time than the simple
well-grooved routines of sexually satisfying stars or political friends of Bob's.

In the early 80's I also rendezvoused with Reagan for sex on nights I drove off by myself in the
car, telling my husband I needed to learn to become more independent. I got in my car and played the
'metaphysical game' I learned from books I was suggested to read. For example, I just drove
spontaneously and magically stopped when it 'felt right.' One evening, it just 'tell right' to stop at a very
expensive hotel in Santa Barbara and I checked into a room and waited for Ronnie. Naturally, before he
got there two men in suits, carrying briefcases full of programming equipment, let themselves into my
hotel room and tortured me in preparation for the President.

Another time it just 'felt right' to stop at a large hotel near the pier in Santa Monica, where again, I met
with Reagan.

Point Mugu Naval Weapons Station and Dolphins

I remembered being on a gurney at Point Mugu, with a white sheet over my body, a white
electrode cap over my head and an IV in my arm. I was hooked up to electrodes all over my scalp and on
my wrists and they were having me listen to whale and dolphin sounds via headsets. Huge banks of
audio equipment and big tapes on recorders were all running. They often played music or sounds in one
ear and tones or word instructions in the other. Sometimes the sound was excruciatingly loud in one ear
and nearly inaudible in the other. The words were barely audible but I often tried really hard to listen to
what was being played in my ear, though it was impossible to hear. The loudness hurt my ear and the two
extremes coupled together nearly drove me crazy.

There were dolphins in tanks at Point Mugu that were also used in research. At times, they also
had electrodes on their heads. I think they were attempting to measure thoughts and telepathic
communication. At one point they directed me to send a message to the dolphin with my mind, and then
listen and decode the language of the dolphin's reply. They tried it with whale language also. The swim
programs that allowed me to swim long distances without tiring, were also coupled with the hypnotic
suggestion that I was like a dolphin and could swim forever like one.

I think the dolphin research was a secondary project, and among other things was a project to
further U.S. Intelligence technology in telepathy. The dolphin research continued because we could
communicate long distance with the dolphins, sending messages, and when I received them, I was
given a number to call immediately to report what I heard. They paired this need to report with having to
go to the bathroom and once in the bathroom I would dissociate, switch personalities and phone in to
report, sort of like "ET phone home."

Just a week before my husband and I were getting ready to go on a sailing trip to the Channel
Islands, I remembered performing a visualization I was taught, where in my mind, I pictured myself in
the middle of a group of dolphin. I performed this whole process in an attempt to actually link up with
the dolphin on our trip. Before we left, I told Craig I was going to have a dolphin experience! Low and
behold, way out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, a whole pod of dolphin swarmed our boat. When I
saw them coming I got so excited that I slipped on my diving mask, and jumped off the boat into the
middle of them. No one on board could believe my impulsive actions! It seemed that time stood still and
I felt like I was held in a state of suspended animation as one large dolphin seemed to energetically link
up with me. Time seemed to stand still and it was an amazing experience! After that I began to "see light
in everything." I still don't have an understanding for exactly what happened, but I began having
incredibly prophetic dreams and more psychic experiences. I believe this also was part of an experiment.

There was extensive "dolphin programming" done on me. Movies, stills and motion pictures with
beautiful music were shown, administered together with drugs they injected into my arm in order to put
me in a state of utter euphoria while I was viewing the dolphin pictures. These movies and other positive
stimuli reinforced good feelings that emerged in order to deter me from the Star Wars information.
Dolphin programming covered the Star Wars Project. Whales covered a NASA project. This all-powerful
programming was meant to keep me from accessing the information stored neatly in my brain away
from my conscious awareness.

There were movies I felt drawn to all of a sudden leave my family at night to attend. I went to
different new age bookstores or other places where I was told to go to see dolphin movies, some very
sophisticatedly created with music. A couple who created and traveled to share their dolphin movie, told
the small audience to go into a meditative state and watch the film in order to gain expanded
consciousness. The movie contained different geometric shapes shown along with the dolphins in
underground cities. The dolphin theme was continued when I was living on the island of Kauai.

President Reagan's project, STAR WARS, was located in my mind files under Dolphin
programming. I accompanied Reagan lots of times to Point Mugu and other military bases, but Point
Mugu was the original site where I would download top secret information from the mind files, first.
Then I was taken to different bases all over, usually without Reagan, to deliver the same information,
over and over and over again; all over the world to the major players. The Around the World In 80 Days
movie and song was used to cover this activity. So I'd think of that movie and believe I was remembering
that instead of my actual assignment. Other movies were used in an attempt to cover and intentionally
scramble my experiences. As I retrieved memory of ways I was used, I sorted through the 'movie
realities' to discover what actually happened.

Star Wars was a global network working together for global control. This network continued as I
was transferred to the island of Kauai where I reported often to Barking Sands Missile Base.

Dolphin Programming and Pornography

Another auxiliary project, one that brought in proceeds, was dolphin pornography. Dolphin porn
was filmed in Malibu and in the dolphin tanks at Point Mugu. It was convenient because they had cages
already built and so the dolphins could be housed there for use almost anytime. Reagan really loved the
dolphin stuff. He watched a porn video of Kelly and I with a couple of dolphins. During the viewing he
smiled, patted my leg and said, "I'll be with you later." He wasn't into sex with children and didn't have
sex with my daughter. When the film was over he said, "Watching you do underwater ballet is
beautiful, but seeing you with the dolphin is out of this world!" He laughed and looked up, like he was
seeing a missile or shuttle launch. Lots of dolphin porn was filmed. I believe Bob gave copies of it to
Prince Charles, Prince Phillip and Margaret Thatcher, who is a lesbian.

Over the years my daughter Kelly was often programmed next to me. We would be instructed to
both touch our noses at the same time and then a shock would be delivered though the electrodes stuck
all over our bodies. We both had IV's in our arms and despite the trauma, we were giggling like we were
both drunk. She was very young and they continued this over the years. In addition to all the regular
programming, they also programmed us to be a mother-daughter sex team. There was lots of
programming laid in that made us believe that we were twin souls, "two peas in a pod." I was
programmed to believe that half of me was in her and half of her was in me. There was lots of identity
confusion. They programmed us to be totally synchronous, so we could flow together and work
harmoniously while sexually servicing whomever they sent us to.

Our controllers' used the movie ET as a "screen memory" to cover memory of these actual
experiences by telling Kelly and I that we were like ET and Elliot, and if one of us got free the other
would die. The message given was, "If you get deprogrammed or a hospital frees you, you will get
separated from each other for the rest of your lives. ET almost died and had to go to another planet away
from Elliott. A wilted Chrysanthemum flower plant will remind you, it will wither and die if it's off the
vine, away from its source."

At three months old Kelly was able to float on her back with no assistance, and further swimming
lessons early on enabled her to be an excellent swimmer, natural in the water. She also had
programming that enhanced her natural swimming capabilities, enabling her to swim long distances.
Kelly was good with the dolphins. She was specially trained this way from the time she was very small.

Years later, in 1993, as I became aware that my children and I had been taken to Point Mugu for
programming, I returned, trying to get a closer look in an attempt to understand what these people were
doing. But it was heavily guarded; now I know why. Interestingly enough, last year on a plane flight, I
had the opportunity to sit next to a man from California. I was spiritually guided to share with him my
experience of programming at Point Mugu Naval Base. When I got to the part about the dolphin tanks
and banks of recording equipment, his eyes widened and he said, "You must have been there; no one
knows about those unless they have been there; it's a classified area." After our conversation he just kept
shaking his head.

My family and I bounced from Point Mugu to UCLA for programming often, and when necessary
were taken to Edwards Air Force Base for further programming.

The Star-Spangled Banner

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming.
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming.
And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Yeah, it still waves, but not over the land of the free and the home of the brave.

"Fear them not therefore: For there is nothing covered that shall not be revealed;
nothing hid, that shall not be known. " -- Matthew 10:26

Chapter 28

2008-10-30T10:12:00.001-05:00

Guess the old man is far worse than the son as far as i can tell.

Chapter Twenty-eight: Reagan, Kissinger, Bush and More Horrors

One day, on assignment, I was standing at the top of a very tall set of four or five tiers of marble
stairs. President Reagan walked out of a room below and paused a moment before he looked up and saw
me. Quickly he put his finger to his lips and I knew that meant to keep quiet. He motioned for me to
come downstairs and meet him outside. I promptly looked away from him so I wouldn't be publicly
noticed or connected with him, and started walking. Once outside, a Secret Service agent directed me
toward a limo and as I got close he took hold of my head and pushed me inside. I was waiting when
Reagan arrived. He stepped in backwards so no one from the outside would be able to see me. After the
door was shut, he smiled and kissed me and said that he had missed me. He said he needed me to go
with him to the Pentagon to introduce me to some friends of his.

There I was exposed to file after file of small typed information and was introduced to an officer
who had on a dark blue uniform with gold trim that looked like a Navy uniform. Reagan instructed this
man to show me information that was top-secret. This was information I needed to have in my mind files
for some upcoming meeting. Then Reagan left. I followed this man to his office and watched while he
opened his file drawer, took out some files and laid them open on his desk. He left me with them and
went out of the room, locking the door behind him, locking me inside. I was in his office for quite some
time and went over four files in detail. I couldn't remember the details when I was deprogramming the
documents to read them to you now. The officer kept checking on me and when I was through he
escorted me to a waiting limo. Reagan wasn't there.
White House Humor

"Once in the White House always in the White House, I know my own way upstairs!" Bob
programmed me to say to Presidents.

When I said that to Reagan he said he didn't find that amusing. I told him, "Well Bob said for me
to say that."

Reagan immediately softened up, laughed and said, "You tell that ole' buzzard I said hello."
Once you are on the list "to do the White House" they keep using you over and over if your Boss
man agrees.

Cozumel

During September of 1984 or 1986, Craig and I went to Cozumel on a scuba diving vacation with a
group of dental friends. A day and a half of the trip was reserved for Reagan. The men in suits came for
me in the middle of the night. It often happened that way, where they just appeared in the room and took
me away. They said they had come to "prepare me," which I knew meant torture and isolation, to be
readied for my time with Reagan. I was put into a cement utility room. It was dark except for the pilot
light from a hot water heater located in the corner. That was the only light until daylight. I was stripped
naked and left in the cold cement room all night alone. The men opened the door every so often and used
electro-shock on me, by putting a prod on my hips. My body contorted and convulsed, and my hands
involuntarily rose uncontrollably into the air. Then, I collapsed into a heap on the floor and they told me
to keep standing, not to sit down or go to sleep. They checked in on me every so often, to see if I sat down
or had fallen asleep, and if I had, they zapped me again with high voltage, and even if I hadn't they would
zap me. Either way, I got it.

If I had to go to the bathroom, I went in a corner and then they would slap me for that. The men
in suits were brutal. Slapping me, shinning bright lights in my eyes, shocking my body. . . it was sheer
torture. They injected my arm with some drug and I slumped over. One of them covered me up with a
sheet and carried me to a black car, and the next thing I knew I woke up in a hotel room where I was
told to shower, wash my hair and dress in the clothes they left for me.

When I finished dressing, they took me to a dimly lit restaurant where Reagan was sitting in a
candlelit booth, already eating. It was late and there weren't any other people in the restaurant. Reagan
smiled and took my left hand activating my touch program as he squeezed it. He winked at me as he
continued eating. I just sat with him, with the Secret Service waiting behind him, while he ate. I was very
out of it, and was having trouble focusing to keep myself together. My inner system of personalities was
programmed to never make a mistake in regard to which personality was "presenting." I was forewarned
by my controllers that if this ever happened it would be a fatal mistake and I was programmed to keep
my inner personality system in check by an internal oversight committee that decided who was to be out
in a split second snap of the fingers. It wasn't that I was switched to the wrong personality for this event;
I think, at that moment, I was just physically incapable of performing.

Reagan said, "You look beautiful as always." I smiled shyly and he lifted his hand up, brushed my
hair off my shoulder and pushed on the side of my neck. I felt like my eyes rolled out of my head. He
looked to the Secret Service agents and said that he didn't think I was "quite ready. "

The Secret Service agents took me outside into the ocean air and walked me around a bit and then
took me back to him. They said, "Perform!" and I sat down, this time more alert, bubbly and talkative!
Finished eating by now, Reagan took my hand again and said, "Let's get out of here." We walked
through the kitchen and out the back door, with Secret Service agents before and after us, into a waiting
limo. I asked him where Nancy was and he said, "She's home where she belongs!" He pulled my legs up
over his lap as we drove away and said, "You're in for a real treat tonight."

It was late at night when we pulled up in front of a big white hotel. We went in quickly, after a
Secret Service agent checked to make sure the lobby was clear. Reagan and I went hand-in-hand to the
elevator up to the second floor. We followed the agent down the hall and waited as he stopped in front of
a room, while two other agents guarded Reagan outside. There was a balcony off the room, and we could
hear the surf. It wasn't the plushest of rooms, but it was nice.

Reagan took off the white summer coat I'd been given to wear and sat next to me on the bed. He
started talking to me as he undid the back of my dress. He undressed me this time, revealing the sheer
white lacy bra, panties and white nylons I had been given to wear.

Reagan was aggressive this night. This was not typical behavior for him, as he was usually so
passive. He pushed me back onto the bed and kissed me eagerly while I began undressing him, one
button at a time. He was in a hurry and very passionate. I was surprised at how different he was. He
nibbled my ear, rubbed my navel to access touch programming, and I performed oral sex. While he lay
on his back, I climbed on top of him to bring him to orgasm. Soon I lay down next to him, and we dozed
off to sleep.

A few hours later, a Secret Service agent woke me up and put his finger to his lips to keep me quiet
so I wouldn't wake up the President. The agent grabbed my clothes and shoes and took me to another
room to dress. They put me into a dark sedan and took me back to my hotel, the El Presidente.

The next morning I woke up next to my husband in our hotel room, as if from a nap, feeling really
strange, very tired, and out of it, but with no trace of memory of my time with Reagan. That evening my
husband and I went to dinner with our friends and I was unable to think or do much more than eat my
dinner and smile occasionally at someone as they spoke at the table. I did manage to stay awake through
dinner but couldn't wait to go to sleep. The next morning I woke exhausted and feeling ill, but didn't
know why. Waking weary and worn out was such a common occurrence for me and I had no way of
knowing why I was really tired. I just figured that being tired, dazed, and feeling ungrounded was the
way I was born. I never was able to think past that thought in order to penetrate the amnestic barrier,
until much later.

Catalina Island

I was used on Catalina Island, for sexual rendezvous with Reagan and sometimes other public
officials or entertainers. If Nancy didn't accompany Reagan to Catalina, it usually meant my use with
him was for sex. She accompanied him at times when business affairs were at hand and other people
were present for meetings. If Ronnie would touch me on the hand or look at me, she would get upset.
Quietly and off to the side, he would tell me not to worry my pretty little head about her. I was
programmed to have sex with Reagan at the Wrigley Mansion, the Zane Grey and other hotels on the
island. It seems Reagan was usually on the island anonymously; for security purposes, no one was to
know he was there.

There were usually two Secret Service agents who escorted me to my assignment. We often walked
to our destination on the island when it was only a short distance. They directed me where to go and
stayed behind me so that it would not appear that they were with me. An agent delivered me to the hotel
room to wait for Reagan. Reagan preferred for me to wait for him naked, but he told me each time how
he wanted me to be the next time and I did as instructed.

The agents who delivered me were always waiting right outside with the other agents when it was
time to go. Then, they delivered me back to my hotel room.

When I looked at Reagan's body when he was naked he had a white flabby stomach and buttocks,
not fat, just flabby and old looking. When I was scheduled to be with him, I was preinstructed to put on
five strategically located sprays of Oscar de la Renta perfume - one spray on each side of my neck, one on
each wrist and one in between my legs. He was very sensory oriented and my body had to be super clean.
He often told me he liked how I smelled.

Reagan literally lay on his back the whole time we were having sex and had me do him. It was
always one-on-one with him, usually quiet and sedate. No violence, no intensity. He liked for me to rub
his back and then help him on with his pajamas. At this point in the evening, I often felt like I was
pampering and putting a child to bed, despite the fact that he was 40 years older than I was! He made
sure everything was comfy and in place. It was fairly routine, never much variation.

One night at the Wrigley Mansion, Reagan wanted me to pretend like I was forcing him to have
sex with me. After the game, he put the stun gun to the small of my back. I never knew when it was
coming with him because he would smile and all of a sudden I'd get zapped. Then I passed out, just sort
of fainted over on him and he would catch me and direct my body over next to him, and then he would
turn away and go to sleep, but his body was still touching me.

Sometimes the stun gun was placed at the base of my skull. Different places for different reasons. In the
forehead it was meant to erase the mind file just used.

Chronic Pain

Over the years, I suffered from chronic pelvic pain and sharp stabbing pains that shot up through
my vagina and rectum. I went to the doctor in an attempt to alleviate the cause, but by 1984 it was
decided that a total hysterectomy was the only cure for my pain. I was 33 years old. After the surgery, the
pain did lessen, but wasn't completely gone. At that time I was still unaware that I had been abused but
when I began to have flashbacks and memories of the extreme sexual abuse that I had endured my whole
life, the pain lessened. Once my hidden past was brought to conscious awareness, I healed and the
pain went away for good.

Secretive Meetings with the Owl

I had to maneuver through lots of fairy tale programming like the following in order to gain access
into memory of experiences when I was used as a mind file for Henry Kissinger at secret meetings. There
was a fairy tale about a beautiful redwood forest, but it wasn't real, it was only fantasy. It had beautiful
giant trees with red bark and it was in the mountains. There was a beautiful fairy princess who visited
there and she was allowed to because she had special connections to the forest animals. She made
friends with the great owl who watched over her and kept her safe. He alerted her if there were any
problems because he was so big and so wise. He looked big to her because she had taken the magic
mushrooms just like Alice in the Looking Glass and she couldn't tell if he was really big or she was just
very tiny, but he could watch out for her.

This fairy tale was intended to cover and scramble the real memory of a men's camp of sorts in the
California redwoods. There was a wooden box mounted on a tree with a special phone inside that the
group of men who met there could call from. Henry needed me there to assist him with data. After the
meetings during the day he would layer in the fairy tales at night in an attempt to scramble my memory.
Kissinger also met with George Bush at a place outdoors in the mountains that was like a men's
camp. There was a large wooden building that they used for meetings. They slept in smaller sleeping
cabins. I slept in a separate screened-in cabin and Henry put me into a mode to stay there and not leave
until he came to get me. Henry met with George Bush when he was Vice President, more than he did
with Reagan, who was President. This was because Henry and George had more in common on this
particular endeavor and worked hand-in-hand on the project.

Then Vice-President Bush, Kissinger, and a White House correspondent met to decide what the
White House Correspondent was going to put out through the media to the public to insure success of
their plans. Henry always had his strategies and accomplished a lot behind the scenes by working
through and directing other politicians or people connected to the White House.

At another meeting, Henry and George accessed my geographic locations file and gained access to
information about certain foreign countries. They would pick perfect strategic locations to start wars
and/or disputes they wanted in order to distract the American people and others about what they were
really doing in an area. I would rattle off information about an area, describing it's climate, terrain, ocean
access, mountain access, etc., and I would keep going on with information until they heard a location
that would work for their plans. Then they would say STOP and I would stop. Meetings took place there
often.

Kissinger Mind File Use During Bush's Vice Presidency and Presidency

During Reagan's administration, Henry Kissinger and George Bush used me often in a mind file
capacity. When Bush became President, my job didn't change - only the person holding the office of
President did. One day Henry and I were at the White House and he shook hands with Vice-President
George Bush. I was there for mind file use. They were talking about the IranContra situation and Henry
was telling George what to say publicly to cover their tracks. He had a lengthy conversation with Bush,
telling him "key phrases" to say when asked certain questions so they could keep their stories straight.

George didn't like Henry smoking his cigar inside, but Henry smoked anyway. I guess Bush
needed Henry's help so bad that he didn't press the cigar issue any further. Henry filled my mind files
with information to bring back to the Governor of California, who I believe at the time was Governor
Deukmajian. We sat in wooden chairs with leather seats in front of Bush's desk. The floor in the room
was wooden, with a large throw rug over it. There was an American flag to our left - to Bush's right. Bush
took his glasses on and off when he got upset or nervous.

Dinners held to entertain important foreign leaders or politicians from our own country often
involved Henry Kissinger. He was not one to be social, but attended these dinners out of duty. If I was to
target an individual in attendance, I often went with Henry. I was "strategically" seated next to him as
well as the person they were trying to monitor or influence. Henry always briefed me beforehand in
regard to things that were important to a foreign leader or a certain Senator or Congressmen. I would say
sentences that had been implanted in my head to draw them out and get them talking. Sometimes I was
given little white pills to drop in their wineglasses to "help them loosen up a little," is what Henry would
say.

At these dinners, the President would clink his glass with a fork or spoon and propose a toast to
the honored guest. All the presidents did it. Tapping of the wineglass was a means to call me to attention;
most often it was a time when a very specific code was introduced to set me up for what I was to do the
rest of the evening. After they clinked the glass, I subconsciously received the directions carefully
embedded in the toast. Although Henry was the mastermind and loaded me up with information for
targeted people for the evening, the Presidents were always told that I was at their service for the evening
when I was included at a dining arrangement. Henry really had his own agenda that I fulfilled within the
evening, mingling with those persons he predirected me to. But he took the courtesy of letting the
Presidents feel they were in charge of me, so my instructions were to listen with an ear to hear the coded
instructions and file them in with the instructions Henry had given me for the evening. Although I didn't
understand consciously what to do, the coded parts inside of me knew exactly what to do and what area
within the personality structure would carry out the duty. The Presidents I worked with knew exactly
who I was, and knew that as a robot, I needed direction while I was sitting at the dining table with the
guests. They gave me direction in relation to foreign leaders and which to target and what information to
go after. If there were two foreign dignitaries then I would be told what to do with each of them. Bush
utilized me often like this to hunt out information or find where loyalties lay.

Some of the guests at different times were royalty from England, foreign ambassadors, and other
leaders from around the world. They often had interpreters with them at dinner so they could
communicate. Henry put key phrases in my mind files, created especially for them because my
knowledge of foreign languages was limited, but later, sex usually bridged the language barrier.
I was told what to say when questioned. Sometimes I said I was working for the State Department.
Some of the men must have been given prior permission to have me sexually because they would touch
my leg under the table or slip their hand up my dress. These men thought they were being given a gift,
but they were really being interrogated or seeded by a programmed operative who had been well trained
to do just that sort of job interwoven with sex. Sometimes it was just quick sex in a back office and then
they would go home with their wife, or sometimes me. When I was to spend the night with a guest, we
were often limoed to a nearby hotel for the evening. This happened when the men in control wanted
some serious information. At other times, my instructions were merely to sit next to a targeted guest,
deliver preprogrammed messages and record in my mind files their responses, reactions, etc.

Once a Machine, Always a Machine!

At times, Bob met and played golf with George Bush. "Once a machine always a machine," Bob
said about me to Bush on the golf course in Palm Springs. Bush told Bob he acted like an old married
couple with me. Bob laughed and said, "There's nothing old about her!" Bush didn't think it was so funny
and just went on to the next hole in silence, followed by Secret Service agents.

George Bush knew all about my use as a human computer. He treated me very unkindly, like I
wasn't human. One day, Henry and George got into a fierce argument over how George treated me.
Henry said, "Would you go over to an expensive computer and kick it if it malfunctioned?" This was
during Bush's Vice-Presidency when George accessed my files often and participated back and forth with
Greenspan and Kissinger during that time. Henry said, "George if you're going to use the equipment
you're going to have to learn to use it properly."

George said to Henry, "Hank, this young woman is nothing but a piece of equipment and if she
continues to malfunction on me, I'll have to put a stop to her use." I sat blankly while they continued
their argument.

The Game of Life or is it Slow Death?

George Bush was always mean, gruff and degrading. Overtime, he continually gave me brutal
'attitude adjustments.' He knew just how to twist the knife psychologically and could get me 'back in line'
quicker than anyone else, due to the fact that he had abused my daughter and could devastate me by
reminding me of the brutal things he did to her. Or he would say, "I can read you like a book and don't
ever forget it. If you ever get a notion in your head like this again your daughter will be motherless. Don't
cross me again." He was always yelling at me. He also started this program about 'life.' I had eaten LIFE
cereal my whole life as part of a program, and he said to eat it and remember while I was eating it that,
"only by going along with the program will you stay alive and continue your duties to your family and
country." In programmed response, I ate LIFE cereal all the time, even carrying little snack bags of it
around with me if I felt scared or threatened. Bush also had my children play the game of LIFE with me
and reminded us, "Spin the dial and see what life has to offer." George would remind us to remember
whenever we played, "if you get off track, you will loose not only your own life, but the precious lives of
those traveling with you, your children." (Or, in my children's case, "your mother or father.")

Henry was so busy perfecting and guarding his technology within me that, at the time, I
experienced him as protecting me, since he personally wasn't violent with me. But I know now that he
was very much a part of the group of people that hurt me and, in fact, had to have orchestrated a lot of
my high-level abuse. At times Henry acted like a mad scientist, so pleased with his creation, yet lost to
humanity.
Mexico

Lots of drug transactions took place in the middle of crowds, such as in parades. I was involved in
a big one in Mazatlan on Cinco de Mayo. We had just eaten dinner with Craig's family, aunt, uncle and
cousin at the Shrimp Bucket restaurant. They had a lot of alcohol to drink and Craig's aunt took me into
the restroom and passed some drugs off to me and told me to put the bag inside my dress. I was wearing
a peach colored cotton sundress and I did what she said but didn't like to put the package in my panties
like she told me to because it made me look pregnant or fat. Soon, we all left the restaurant and stepped
out into the street where a festive Cinco de Mayo parade was in full swing. As we entered the huge crowd
of people dancing and marching in the street, we moved along helplessly sandwiched in between the
crowd. Craig kept laughing hysterically and smashed confetti eggs in my hair. I was terrified because
nothing felt real, and the loud noises and all the people jammed close together frightened me. A man
with dark skin, wearing white cotton pants, shirt and straw hat grabbed my arm and pulled me away
from the crowd, down a dark side street. He pulled me through what at first looked like a doorway into
an old abandoned building but as we made our way to the back, I was escorted into a room that was
restored and decorated. A group of men were sitting around a table with a low hanging lamp, smoking
and playing cards. "Here she is," my guide announced.

Another dark-skinned man came over to me. I think they called him Johnny T. He patted my
stomach and said, "What do we have here? A gold mine?" He pulled up my dress and removed the
package. In front of all the other men, he set his cigar down, pulled off his belt, unzipped his pants, let
them fall to the floor, stepped out of them and said to his comrades, "This is what I've waited all night
for." And he pulled me to the ground and raped me in front of the group. When he was through with me
he opened the package I had delivered and said, "Tell the United States government, we thank them for
their gifts, for their generosity, and tell them we like the way they do business," everyone laughed as he
continued, "and that we will continue to hold up our end of the bargain." Another man took me out to a
waiting car and I was delivered back to Craig's uncle.

George Bush was often a part of the illegal drug activity in Mexico. It felt as if he followed me and
my family around on our vacations; no matter where we went, he and "the boys," showed up. I realize
now our vacation spots really revolved around our controller's agenda but in those days I had no way of
knowing that. It seemed like Reagan was just a puppet and Bush made all the arrangements, did the
thinking, planning and carrying out of the deals. At meetings and social gatherings, Bush made the
connections and cut the deal while Reagan just acted oblivious - which is not to say he didn't know or
wasn't aware, he just wasn't ever the mastermind. Bush was ruthless and brutal; the end justified the
means. He even had a red handkerchief he kept in his pocket for wiping blood off of Kelly or me. He had
high expectations and often expected us to do things that he had inadvertently forgotten to tell us, at
which point Kelly or I got slapped, beaten, or dealt with in other torturous ways. There was a time on
Maui when a Secret Service agent came to my aid saying to Bush, "Sir, I don't think you told her that."
That was the end of his job; Bush fired him on the spot. One day Bush took a pocketknife out of his pants
pocket and I was terrified that he would use it on me, but instead he used it to cut the skin off a green
apple. He told me I'd be next to have my skin cut off in the same slow, torturous manner if I didn't
cooperate.

I saw the Mexican leaders more frequently at the White House than in Mexico; they were usually brutal
and violent.

Craig's Uncle Lyle Curran, who worked for NASA, specially arranged for us to purchase a
timeshare; the Presidential Suite, at the El Cid Hotel, in Mazatlan. My husband purchased the use of this
suite, for the same week in April, every year for the next 25 years. My family and I always thought we
were going there for a vacation. But that was never what occurred. On one such vacation, a man in a suit
met Kelly and I just after we had bought our 'strawberry banana smoothies' at the hotel shake stand.
Later I discovered that these drinks, although very healthy, were programming cues that were installed
at an earlier time when we were taken to the Santa Monica Pier and put on the Carousel Ride. A man put
both of us on the horses and told us, "tied together, you are one." There was other mirror programming
and suggestions that created confusion over where I started or ended physically, and Kelly began or
ended. There were to be no separate identities.

Anyway, we had on our bikinis and this suited man followed us over the bridged overpass that led
to the Presidential Suite. As we went into the room he slipped in behind us. He told us to sit down on the
bed. He put earphones on both of us, and injected our forearms. Kelly sat with one leg folded under her,
in half Indian style position. We were body programmed and different body positions meant different
things. George Bush arrived, dressed in a tan suit, and Kelly was "prepared" for him. Bush, a couple of
Mexican leaders, and one other man had a meeting in our suite. I sat next to Bush at the meeting while
he accessed my mind files. When the meeting was over George waited until everyone left the room,
shook their hands politely at the door and when they were gone he went into the bedroom where Kelly
was waiting. I sat robotically at the table.

Awhile later, when Kelly came out of the room, she had a smile on her face. Per programmed
conditioning, she always wore a smile but she didn't look good to me. Bush left with two Secret Service
agents that were parked outside the door to the suite. One of them called him, "Geo."
Another time Henry Kissinger was sitting with George Bush at a meeting that took place at the
large dining table in our Presidential Suite at El Cid with two Mexican men. I was there to be used in
mind file capacity. There were other such meetings that took place at our family timeshare, at El Cid, in
the "Presidential Suite."

"Honesty is the first chapter of the book of wisdom." -- Thomas Jefferson

Chapters 26 & 27

2008-10-14T19:40:00.001-05:00

Chapter Twenty-six: Dodger Diamonds

The following information documents some, but by no means all, of the experiences I recovered in
relation to my use with Tommy Lasorda and the Los Angeles Dodgers. I have randomly selected specific
events I believe will aid you the reader in understanding just how far mind control, gone unchecked, has
proliferated.

Tommy Lasorda gave a new meaning to the Dodger lineup. Instead of the Dodgers lining up, it
was women and children lining up for the baseball team to choose from, for sex. A Dodger incentive to
do better - to win more! If they won, they got to choose - if they lost, no women.

"Dodger diamonds" had a double meaning. In addition to the baseball diamond as on a baseball
field, in my experience, it also referred to the "Dodger Diamonds," the mind-controlled women the
Dodgers could select from for sex. Lasorda often spoke in cryptic language, intended to manipulate and
inspire the Dodgers. Here's an example. One evening as he spoke to the team, he said, "If you play good
on the Dodger diamond (the playing field), you will get in return a 'Dodger Diamond"' (a sex slave).
Presidential model sex slaves often wore diamonds as program identifiers. My daughter and I wore
diamonds, as well.

Back in the men's locker room when the women and children in the "Dodger lineup" were in their
places, Lasorda would point to a woman or child who had been 'chosen' by a player and say, "he'll take
that one." He never referred to anyone by name - always just pointed and said, "that one." It was part of
the "game" they played after a win. The Dodgers weren't allowed to just go up and pick one of us. They
had to tell Lasorda who they wanted and then he would make the announcement. We then stepped
forward to the player we were chosen by and went with him to another room, corner or wherever he
pleased. Sometimes the locker room was filled with Dodgers having sex with women and children at the
7th inning stretch, to "inspire and invigorate the team," as Lasorda would say. But most of the time it
was done after a winning game.

Sometimes I got stuck with that little short guy - the one that walked like a duck to first base. His
name was Ron Cey. He would often pick me from the lineup. After I was chosen, he would lean against
the wall with one arm and talk casually to me for a minute before he had sex with me. He was impressed
with how well I could have sex standing up against the wall. He also liked my hair and the whole idea
that I was married. He seemed to know all about me, while I knew nothing about him, except that he
smelled like sweat and was really gross to the personality inside me who was created especially for this
Dodger purpose.

Cyndy Garvey (Steve Garvey's now ex-wife) was often part of the "Dodger lineup" of women and
children to be chosen by the Dodgers for sex after a winning game. My daughter Kelly was also
occasionally used. They usually put Krisha and Whitney (the Garvey's young daughters) into the lineup.
The players who performed the best during the game got to choose first.

One night when they put Krisha and Whitney in the lineup, it was Whitney's first night. She was
now "old enough" to participate, in spite of the fact that she was only four or five years old. Cyndy started
screaming, "No, not Whitty!" (That was the nickname she called Whitney.) Two men stepped forward
and grabbed Cyndy by the arms and whisked her away. They took her into the next room and we could
all hear her screaming. It was awful.

"If you step out of line, you always pay the price, maybe with your life." Lasorda said. Then they
took Whitney out of the line and into a side room, and we could all hear her screaming and crying.
Lasorda said to those of us remaining, "We won't have that problem anymore, will we." He was very
brutal.

When they brought Cyndy back into the room, Lasorda said Cyndy's behavior had caused Whitney
to get hurt. He said, "If the mother had acted respectably, there wouldn't have been a problem."
When they brought Whitney back out, she could barely walk. She didn't make it into the lineup
that night; she was too injured.

I experienced and witnessed these types of horrors that kept me from ever interfering with what
they were doing to my children, especially Kelly. I knew from experience that they would hurt her worse
if I ever tried to protect her.

On nights the Dodgers lost, there was no Dodger lineup game and we would all go home, but not
before the Dodgers saw us lined up and then leaving. Tommy said he wanted the boys to learn from their
mistakes and to have incentive to win big. "Big wins equals big bucks," Lasorda said.

Tommy Lasorda and others humiliated Cyndy. They brought me into the locker room and put me
up against the shower wall. They put Cyndy across the room but close by, and they brought Steve in. He
had sex with me standing up against the wall. Cyndy was forced to watch and then someone, usually
Lasorda, would tell her she wasn't good enough or enough of a woman for Steve. They told her she was
stupid and backward. Then Lasorda slapped her across the face really hard. I don't know why they did
that, but they did it to me also and I watched other women get slapped often. While this was going on,
Steve was laughing sadistically. Cyndy looked like she wasn't really "there." Soon after, Tommy Lasorda
took her out and sat her behind the dug out where she usually sat during the games - being the dutiful
and supportive Dodger wife.

On nights like these, Tommy gave the press orders not to talk to or interview Cyndy. He told them
if they did he would have them thrown out of the ballpark and he would have their job. If they asked why,
he would say, "She's not quite herself tonight."

In line with the information about Project Monarch, some rich people actually own certain
Dodger players and their children. Often it's cryptically called "sponsoring," but it's really ownership
(much like owning a racehorse) because the owner makes all the decisions about the players life without
the knowledge or consent of the player. When the player does well, the owner collects large sums of
money from behind the scenes.

Steve Garvey, his (now ex) wife Cyndy, and their two children were "sponsored" (owned) by some
wealthy person and from what I saw, the family was manipulated much the same way mine was, through
mind control, for the financial benefit of others.

One night I watched, as I waited for the "lineup," while Lasorda was coaching the team. He
chalked a diagram of the field onto a large chalkboard. The Dodgers were all sitting on a bench in front of
him. Lasorda spoke in funny rhymes to some of the players, rhymes that didn't make much sense to me.
It seemed that the players were like robots that were robotically manipulated by the words Lasorda
spoke to them. I overheard him say, "Steve (Garvey), you will hit a home run. Ron (Cey), you will bunt
since you're a runt. Only runts bunt." And he went on and on like that, seeming to program the plays into
the players.

I never did end up watching much of the ballgames. If I tried I couldn't concentrate to watch
because I was programmed to not see the players or to recognize them if I should see them. I was preprogrammed
to not look at the Dodgers with the phrase, "there will be blood everywhere, if you continue
to stare," or "you won't recognize them anywhere, you won't even know they are there." People who
didn't know how I was programmed often teased me about my inability to follow or understand baseball
games. One time, after attending games for a long time, I asked my husband and the couple that was
with us, "Who are those men down there in suits?"

They looked at me like I was retarded and laughed in embarrassment for my question, and then
explained, "Those are the umpires." I didn't know. I was just obeying program.

Craig took me to the Dodger games, but I never wanted to go. I hated to go, but had no reason I
could "think" of for not liking or attending the games. Sometimes our small children would go with us,
and then they would show up in the "Dodger lineup" to be used by the Dodgers for sex. I felt very out
of control, despite the mind control I was under. Personalities inside of me didn't know how my children
got there or how they would get home or if they would be safe or killed. Craig stood and watched like a
zombie and often had this strange, nervous laugh that happened when he was anxiously trying to be a
part of things. We were both totally helpless to think or act in order to protect our children or ourselves.
Tommy Lasorda was connected to a lot of mob-type men. They were always around Dodger
Stadium in their suits with concealed weapons.

At times there were secret, private meetings at Dodger Stadium during the games. Sometimes the
meetings were between politicians and at other times there were meetings where drug deals took place,
or meetings between mob members and other top leaders in politics and/or the entertainment field.
These meetings often took place during the time the games were being played. In the early years, money
was transferred for drugs, illegal stocks, bonds, or other investments. Money in briefcases was
exchanged for something in another briefcase. In my experience, this could have been anytime from 1976
on. Bob Hope was limoed in just for a brief exchange and then left quickly. He had a thing for Cyndy,
always kissing her and touching her breasts while she just stood robotically.

Whoever owned the Dodgers at one time used to come into the big fancy restaurant there at
Dodger Stadium or into the locker room. Many times Bob Hope would limo me in and give me specific
instructions on how to seduce this man and ask him key questions or deliver messages. One owner had
dark skin, dark hair, was average build, and always wore a suit and dark glasses. He liked it when I took
his glasses off his face, laid them down and started kissing him. He wore strong cologne and black
underwear, and had a holder for a gun he carried on his ankle. I was used to "disarming" men by
"carefully" removing their weapons while I was seducing and disrobing them. I was instructed to do that
sometimes for people who wanted others eliminated. They sent me in to seduce and disarm the person
and then they would send in a hit man. I wasn't functional for days after one of these events so they quit
using me for that type of assignment.

This particular Dodger owner didn't like to be seen in public. He didn't operate alone and had a
company of mob-type men who worked for him. One day Bob Hope sent me in to "console" him. He was
sitting alone on a locker room bench. I walked up to him and put my hand on his back so as not to startle
him. He knew me and thought I worked for Lasorda. So, he let me go through my routine as I kissed him,
rubbed his neck, and got him calm and relaxed. Then he said, "Let's get out of here." And he took me to a
room at the stadium that is plush with a big bed in it. He ordered a bottle of champagne and caviar from
the restaurant and we got it quickly. I used the little white pills I was instructed to place in drinks to get
the most cooperation when I was sent in to gather information. He had sex with me and afterwards I
asked him questions about a Colombian drug connection. I asked him where the transactions were
taking place and he said, "Jamaica." Then I asked him when they were taking place and he
answered, "in the spring when the apple blossoms are on the trees." And I asked him "who" and he told
me, "Tommy's group and the Feds." It seemed like everyone always knew everyone else.

Reagan came to the Stadium on occasion. He often met with Hope. They met in the restaurant
there when the restaurant was closed to the general public and made plans. I know because I was witness
to their conversations as I sat with them. Sometimes my job was to listen and correct them if anything
they said went against something in my data/mind files. These deals were connected up to whoever was
in the White House at the time. Reagan, Ford, and Bush were all there at different times. With the
Presidents, it seemed that there was already built into this corrupt drug/porn network a place or slot for
the highest levels of government - the President - because the people who were Presidents came and
went, but the job they did was always the same. It seemed like the stadium was a place where they could
meet undetected or something.

On occasion I was flown away in a helicopter with Secret Service agents and taken to DC and
debriefed or given new information to deliver somewhere else around the country. Then I was flown
home.

Leaders from all over met at the Dodger Stadium. It was where the U.S. Government, White
House level and state level, met with the Mob drug connections and made "deals." These deals were
made with people and leaders from all over the world. No one ever knew they were there as they were
limoed or helicoptered in and out at precise times--carefully coordinated and timed by the Secret
Service.

During the time Steve Garvey was playing for the Dodgers he had an office in Calabasas that was
used by him and the group that controlled him for illegal activities and pornography-adult and kiddy
porn. I was filmed pornographically in Steve's so-called office with a variety of people, including himself,
his wife, and his children. Even my own children were pornographically filmed there at different times.
Sometimes they filmed my daughter Kelly with Whitney and Krisha in kiddie porn. Lots of other
children were filmed pornographically including our oldest son Kevin. But these weren't filmed at
Dodger Stadium; instead they were filmed in private offices or homes.

Cyndy and I were filmed together in porn, at Steve's office. We both had little skimpy French maid
aprons on and nothing else. Cyndy wore something like a black eye mask, maybe in their effort to
disguise her. She had a bowl of whipped cream that she held and smeared all over her body and I was
forced to lick it off of her while they filmed. I was told beforehand what to do and say. They took close up
shots when I was commanded to perform oral sex on her.

There was other pornography shot during this time, beginning in the 1980's. When my daughter
Kelly was old enough (3 and up) they began filming Cyndy, our daughters, and myself. A title to one of
these films was Mommy and Me.

Porn of Cyndy and I was filmed on a private beach in Malibu. I was picked up in a white van and
at other times was picked up by a limo. Cyndy, some dogs, and I were running naked on the beach while
they filmed us. Some of this was filmed in the "Colony" in front of one of Barbra Streisand's homes.
Barbra wasn't home when they took us to do the porn.

"Our love must not be a thing of words and fine talk. It must be a thing of action and sincerity." --
I John 3:18

Brice Taylor - Thanks for the Memories
Chapter Twenty-seven: Education 2000

Las Virgenes School District

Henry once said, "There is nothing more convincing than to have a pregnant woman speaking out
for educational issues." He had me speaking to groups that were involved in various aspects of education
from the top officials and big wigs down to California State legislators. He said I was fighting to increase
the level of education for my future progeny; starting now, so by the time they were in school I could rest
assured that they would get the finest education possible.

I began this in 1978 when I was very pregnant with Kelly. He used me in Sacramento to "further
legislation for our children's education." And I went to Washington, DC, when it became necessary to
take what had been won in California in the way of educational advancement and present it to influential
people in DC who could make a difference in furthering this goal. California was the model and once the
framework was set they wanted the new educational system to be used nationwide, but that took
planning and fortitude. Years of preparation went into this to insure that the nation's children would be
ready for the year 2000, when their transformation of the masses would be complete. "...And peace will
guide the planet and love will rule the stars ...the dawning of the Age of Aquarius." Through
programming, this song was instilled within my mind to anchor a lot of this educational activity and to
also bring me under a greater influence of my true birth sign, Aquarius. The plan was for my
humanitarian interests to be of such a magnitude that I would become internationally known as a leader
in ending child ritual abuse. This focus would have served to keep those who found out about this abuse
"busy" and distracted with "satanic behavior," and still not aware of mind control, until they could
gradually implement the transformation to get people more completely under control. They referred to
the time frame after the year 2000 takeover, as "The Great Transformation."

Don Zimring, the Superintendent of Schools for the Las Virgenes School District (LVSD) was
heavily involved in deciding which children got special instruction. Each 'special' child in the school had
their own program design and was individually monitored so they would get the early training and
conditioning they would need to fulfill their destined position within the hidden inner circle framework.

I was programmed to report to the LVSD office to see Don Zimring in order to be "instructed" in regard
to the "special" children who were in need of individual attention and individual programs. I sat before
him in a robotic "sponge" state, while he rattled off profiles of children and special videos or instruction
booklets they were to be subjected to. By the time the children hit elementary school they were
conditioned sufficiently so that their "programs" could be absorbed readily and easily through just saying
a word that opened their access way to special abilities, like photographic memory or rapid learning
states. Many women, purposefully placed in teacher and principal positions, were either programmed
themselves or just didn't pay attention when a child was removed from class for "special instruction."

Children were targeted for their natural talents and abilities. For example, in families who were
athletically inclined, or where one or both parents excelled in sports, they put in access codes for "super
athletes" and then someone from higher up had the option of stepping in and 'sponsoring' a child with a
promising future. Which meant that this "higher up" funded socalled 'special education' for this child,
often without the parent's conscious involvement or consent, and from then on had a special interest in
how things were taught to the child. Kelly was monitored closely, always having a special tutor to "shore
her up." Our controllers viewed her as a young beauty and noted her extremely positive social skills and
built upon those. There was an "inner group" of school officials, parents and teachers who were involved
in seeing to it that the preconditioned children were groomed in the ways necessary for them to step into
future pre-designated positions.

The people behind this scheme have done endless research on the brain in response to
everything, including spinning rides at amusement parks, and know just what level of stimulation is
needed to make programming most effective. Over the years the research has been tried and tested
through the experimentation on children who were targeted before birth. The genetic engineering aspect
is highly used and they take into consideration the inherent genetic talents and abilities coupled with just
the right training at the right age to produce a "highly advanced child." But, in essence, what they truly
have created is a highly advanced robot that has been dehumanized to the point of not being able to
think or choose for themselves. They have been robbed of their free will or any real choice in their lives.

The California Capital 'Sexcramento' and Senator Pete Wilson

The organization and framework is large. There were many people involved and the technology
over the years has risen to the level where children in the preschools require less trauma and torture in
the beginning stages to set in the "cues and programs" that will be built upon in later years. Pete Wilson
was very involved with all of this and was set into position in the 1980's. I was sent to Sacramento with
Ann Eklund, the principal of Sumac Elementary School, in the early 1980's, to set up these programs
through the school districts. Although at the time I didn't know I was participating in this, years later,
during a flashback, I remembered boarding a plane with her, getting off with her and being met by a taxi
that drove us to offices of the California State Department of Education. It seems that the instructions to
implement these "special programs" filtered down from "the top." The higher ups see it as
technologically advancing the children, creating "mega minds of the future" for later use within their
own system. The children are force fed information into previously set up inner systems of mind files and
are trained to be able to accept vast amounts of highly technological information beginning at age three.
They are not taught to think, but only to be used and accessed like a computer.

Ann Eklund was highly involved in the project and had been since its inception. The framework
was set into great motion in Sacramento in the early 80's between Ann, Don Zimring, Pete Wilson and
several officials from Washington, DC. I was flown to DC to speak before a committee meeting to
describe how the program was progressing. Sometimes a child would be "demonstrated" to the
committee to show the advanced mind technology that was possible. Disbelieving Senators and
Congressmen 'in the know,' needed to see to believe. The child could be made to perform on cue and
recite mega amounts of highly complex technological information. They saw these children as being
prototypal descendents of mine. These particular politicians knew how I was used with Henry Kissinger
and were "amazed" to know that any similarly conditioned child could possess the same qualities of
mind ability. Reagan was also involved and so was Bush. Our instructions for individual children's
programming often came from the White House level as many of these wealthy people "adopted" and
"supported" children "with promise." These elite overseers viewed the 'special' children as the minds of
the future, the future world leaders, preprogrammed with their own wisdom and desires for how they
feel the world should be run, based on their own values. GOD HELP US!

LVSD was the No. l pilot program and many funds were approved to be used within the school
district, but were actually skimmed off the top to finance a lot of "special programs," really aimed at the
children who had been targeted. Children who were targeted were dismissed from class, taken to a room
for special attention and were hooked up to special audio tapes, linked with accompanying picture books,
in the beginning years, and then later on to computers and sound. Large reels of film were used
occasionally when not available on video and it was timely for the information to be "visually cued" into a
child's brain. But usually it was done by video or computer. It created complex brain function and set up
controls within the child that these people manipulated. They have performed experiment after
experiment over the years to develop the most effective equipment to use on children. Much of the
funding earmarked for use within the school district was siphoned off to be used for research and to pay
technicians to develop and test the equipment, computer programs, etc. During that time, many of the
state school funds were misappropriated and used for things other than what they were approved for.

I am pretty sure now that the memories I had of accompanying Reagan to Point Mugu and other
places for speeches, was when I was being "demonstrated" to others and was cued to speak about the
same technology that was being used with children three, four, and five years old. Reagan used me often
for demonstration because he said I stood the test of time, which meant that I had been in operation for
over 30 years without a leak, or without a problem. I heard him explain to people that I was so "real" that
he sometimes forgot I was a programmed robot. He said he liked that because, "you get all the benefits of
a robot with human softness added." He was very proud of the technology and spoke freely about it
within a trusted group. I was presented to the military, to politicians, etc., for them to see and witness
the technology, and then I presented my pre-programmed information. Many requested private
demonstrations of my sexual capabilities in order to become believers. Whenever there were men at the
presentations, and usually they were men, there were private one-on-one sexual demonstrations
afterwards.

In my head, when I was retrieving these memories, I kept hearing the phrase, "Senate
subcommittee meetings on advancing education in America." I remember Pete Wilson speaking and
there was a demonstration done on the educational system that had nothing to do with what was actually
going on behind the scenes, but they had to justify the large amounts of money that they were trying to
appropriate for their secret system. It was all a sham - they knew they would get the money, they knew
where it was coming from and how they could get it. It was just a matter of making the steps and actions
look like it was all above-board, while behind the scenes they planned the new technology in education,
privately. Their attitudes were that other people in the private sector wouldn't be able to grasp what they
were doing because they didn't have the required intellect. So, they justified its secrecy this way, feeling
this new system was the advancement of society and until people could really see the results in action
and how effective these methods of education would be in the advancement of society, they needed to
keep the methodology quiet. They used big words to intimidate those people they wanted to leave them
alone and they were quite successful at accomplishing that. People who couldn't understand what they
were saying would back down and walk away. They used me for this project beginning in the early 80's
and didn't care whether I was pregnant or just out of the hospital or what. They just overrode what my
personal situation was by using my multiplicity.

Pete Wilson was probably elected governor so that they could pull this whole thing off without any
problem. Ann Eklund introduced me to him in the very early 80's and the sexual connection was made,
then I was fed information by the Council (from the hotel room in the Holiday Inn or the Marriott) to
"deliver" to Pete even in the early years. He jumped though all the hoops they presented to him with no
problem and so they kept promoting him just like they did Reagan. Only difference was, Reagan seemed
ignorant compared to Pete and I guess that meant that Pete was more knowledgeable and better
informed about certain situations, beyond acting in accordance with what the Council wanted. Reagan
just acted in accordance, like a puppet with no understanding of what he was doing in so many
situations, always worried about the state of affairs of the Nation, but easily calmed and his attention
diverted to another subject.

The school district plans were directly tied into the preschool abuse. They made sure they had
"qualified" preschools set up in areas near the elementary and secondary education schools so the
children would be "prepared" before entering kindergarten. Then the public school system had in place
the network of people to carry out the children's "further education." The controllers have people placed
in positions, high up, in widely varying areas to fund their plan and to fill the positions required in order
to make it successful. They had programmed people in place from the janitor all the way up to the school
district supervisors and on into the state and federal government. All key positions were filled to make
sure their plan is implemented and failsafe. They moved key people around as needed.

In 1985, not long after my April 12th auto accident, I continued on as coordinator of the
carnival at Sumac Elementary. I had been working on it for months. But I was in so much pain that I had
to do it with a neck brace and the aid of Percodan. My mother and father even attended, with my father
in a wheel chair-all this took place before I remembered any of my past. The funds that came from that
little Saturday event were significant enough, with thousands of dollars raised, that the head of the Park
and Recreation Department for Agoura invited me to be the fundraiser for the local parks department.

Between the money earned by this carnival and the large sums earned by the Agoura Great Race,
organized by a friend of mine, the school was able to buy computers, turning a whole section of a stage
area into row after row of computers. It was a few years later that I began remembering a little boy
sitting at one of those computers working away, 'lost in time.' I walked behind him and, as programmed,
I intentionally lost my balance and drove my knee into his back in order to further 'dissociate' him, and
then I tapped him on his left shoulder twice. There was usually a word command coupled with these
actions, something that would cue the child back into a specific mind state or program at a later date. I
also remember going up to one of Danny's teachers and saying something like, "Are you going to teach
the child about Napoleon?" Napoleon was the key word. I don't know what it did or was suppose to do to
the teacher, but it also was coupled with a tap on the left shoulder. Of course, while I know that I didn't
consciously plan why I said that, I also wonder who coordinated all of this, cueing me to cue her and
some of the students.

This new computer area installed at Sumac Elementary got the 'special' children out of class and
gave anyone who wanted to approach them, access to them. They got a permission slip from their
teacher and went by themselves to the computer area. Later, in therapy, I remembered pulling a
videotape from my purse and coming up behind a child and changing what he was watching on a VCR.
Later, they had computer disks that were similarly brought in. These children had been targeted since
they were very small. Many children at the school did not receive this "special attention" - only those who
were to become leaders in the future and those who were sponsored.

Of course, in the intentionally created reality driven by the mind control I was under, I simply
believed that I was a good wife and dutiful mother. I had no way of knowing I was being used in this way.

"If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.
If I can ease one life the aching, or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin into his nest again, I shall not live in vain. "
-- Emily Dickinson

Chapter 25

2008-10-05T16:12:00.002-05:00

very long chapter friends. this one is VERY graphic and details the birth and torture of her own children. read at your own discretion.

Chapter Twenty-five: Baby Monarchs are Born

Craig and I decided, at least I thought we decided, that it was important for me to take additional
means of birth control to insure that we did not conceive a child while I was working to put Craig
through dental school. Dr. Stoddard referred me to Dr. Harold Lusk, a Hollywood OB/GYN who, on my
first visit, examined me and told me not to worry, that my female reproductive organs were in such bad
condition that I could never have children. I was so devastated that I couldn't talk, much less question
the doctor. I drove home numbed by the news. Later that afternoon, sobbing through my words, I told
my husband that I would never be able to have children.

Craig called Dr. Lusk immediately and was told that I had a disease called endometriosis, plus
fibriod tumors and cysts, that the doctor explained were common in upper and middle class women
when they put off having children until later in life. I was only 22 years old! He told Craig that if he
performed surgery on me it might be possible for me to get pregnant, but that we would have to start the
process of trying to have a child, immediately. Over the next year, I had two major surgeries for what I
was told was to correct the damage, and began the medical process of dealing with what I was told was
infertility. When, after the two so-called surgeries, I didn't get pregnant, as a last resort, Dr. Lusk gave
me a fertility drug called "clomid," and soon after, I became pregnant. I continued working as a dental
assistant until I went into labor and gave birth to our first child, Kevin Craig Ford, on October 19, 1975.

The Birth of Kevin Craig Ford

Late at night, as my labor progressed, we were met at the hospital by a group of anxious hospital
staff. Craig phoned ahead alerting them that Susan Ford was on her way to the hospital. They thought I
was Susan Ford, the President's daughter. I guess this was understandable due to the fact that Nixon had
stepped down and Gerald Ford was now President. They thought I might have twins, since I was so huge,
but after an intense natural childbirth, Kevin was born and was immediately taken away from me for
what seemed like a very long time. They told me it was standard procedure despite the fact that there
were no complications. But later, suited men came into my hospital room. One man took a syringe and
some type of drug out of his briefcase and, while he was readying the injection for me, I began
screaming, "Where's my baby? Where's my husband? What did you do with my baby?"

As he injected a drug into my arm, he said in a calm, emotionless voice, "You see me but you don't
see me. You can't see. You can't see me." Waiting a moment for the drug to take effect, he said, "You need
to calm down. . .just calm down. . . down. . . down. . . down. . . down... one ...two...three...going down
...deeper now ...going down. You're in the well, next to hell, and everything that happens there, oh well,
or is it oh hell? You're there."

Taking my pulse, he continued, "This is our baby. Don't ever forget, it belongs to us. You will hand
him over when cued. You will not react. You will simply hand him over, like he is a sack of groceries. Do
you understand? Nod your head if you understand."
I nodded.

"Good, very good. This way no one will have to get hurt, we don't want that do we?"
I shook my head no. I felt very drugged.

"Good," the man said hypnotically. "Bad things happen if you don't obey. Very bad things."
I felt very sick, very tired, and very terrified. I couldn't breathe, I was too scared. "They'll take my
baby," I thought, terrified beyond words. Frantically I worried, "Who will watch my baby, what are they
doing to him? Help, I can't get help. No one can hear. I can't talk, I can't tell. THIS IS hell!" Afterwards,
of course, I couldn't recall or think about any of this traumatic event.

After a brief hospital stay, Craig and I brought Kevin home and began trying to parent this baby
who would not suckle at my breast and cried non-stop.

I was programmed not to lock the doors to our home in Agoura and often men in suits let
themselves into our house. They always had guns and sometimes a knife. These men usually came in
threes - one to handle and torture my baby, one to torture me, and one to guard the door. The men said
they had a "little treat for the baby." They went to Kevin's room and took him out of his crib, where he
was sleeping. They held Kevin in front of me and threatened me, with a gun pointed to my temple. They
said that if I didn't cooperate they would cut his penis off, or slit his throat. At times they would cut him
and make him bleed. Watching helplessly, as they hurt my baby, was the single worst nightmarish feeling
and experience. I wanted my husband to help me. I wanted him to protect us, but he never did. Now, I
understand that he never could.

The men did different things each time they came to harass us. At times they took Kevin into
another room and while they had him, another man restrained me. I stood silently and helplessly while I
tried to listen to what was happening to my baby. The agonizing silence was intensely painful and was
always followed, after what seemed like forever, with the screams of a crying baby in excruciating pain.

God, the screams and the torturous crying were nearly unbearable to listen to. I was so helpless. I could
not help myself, nor could I help my son. Another time they asked me if I wanted to see a "blue baby"
and then one of them proceeded to stick his thumb down my baby's throat until he turned blue. The lead
man always said that if I cooperated and did a better job, they would not have to subject my son to this.
But they tortured us no matter how well I did my job.

And, it is said that America is the land of the free and home of the brave. Where oh where have we
strayed, so far from the ideals set forth for this country?

One day my infant son was swinging, peacefully sound asleep in his wind-up swing, when they
came. They threw a glass of water into Kevin's face to wake him up. He cried and the suited man picked
him up and carried him around the side of the garage out of my sight. Dying inside, I waited anxiously,
hoping they wouldn't hurt him again. After the silence came the horrifying crying and screams. The
suited man carried him back, his baby bootie was off and blood was dripping all over. Holding a razor
blade up to me, he said, "Solve this problem my little cutie." He handed me my screaming son, who was
dripping with blood. When they left, I took Kevin into the house and sat with him on the couch, sobbing,
rocking him, and trying to stop the bleeding with a towel I wrapped around his little foot. He cried so
hard that he was sweating and sniffling, gasping for air and sobbed himself to sleep.

Our neighbor, Ron Peters, was one of Governor Ronald Reagan's bodyguards. He was usually
around when I was used with Reagan in California, but didn't appear to be the lead man. I never knew
when these men would barge into my home. Sometimes they even arrived in the middle of the night.

When this occurred, I was programmed to walk to the front door and open it, and the men in suits would
push their way in. They often pushed me into Kevin's room and closed the door. Craig always slept and
never woke up to protect us. It was always the same torture, horror and threats to both my baby and me,
and when they were finished they would leave. These hellacious experiences happened over and over and
over again. At times, in those early years, there were instructions given over the phone in the middle of
the night, but later on there was programming done that paired tones on the phone with different
instructions. I responded robotically to the different tones I heard on the phone. A programmed part of
me knew the instructions that matched the tones and knew just what they meant and how to respond.
As my programming dictated, I robotically delivered my baby to my father's welding shop where I
handed him over, probably for further trauma programming, and left.

This kind of trauma, tied to my maternal instinct, was enough to keep all the programming intact.
It kept hidden the awareness of my use in high security work for the government and other secret
criminal activities I was involved in without my knowledge, consent, or awareness. In my conscious
waking state as well as my sleeping hours, I was unable to think about what was happening to me and
my family, but after Kevin was born I began to have excruciating migraine headaches. I also had
stomachaches, colitis and constant pain in my female organs. My body was expressing what I could not.

My husband graduated from dental school and immediately set up a dental practice on Topanga
Canyon Boulevard in Woodland Hills. I continued to work out of our house, doing dental lab work, so I
could stay at home with our baby. I also began working part-time at Craig's office. During the hours I
worked away from home, Kevin was left at a babysitter's house in the old neighborhood where I grew up
in Woodland Hills. When he was out of diapers he filled a long-awaited slot at Little Oaks Preschool, in
Thousand Oaks, California, where he, and later, the rest of my children were further ritually abused. The
fact that I had put my baby on a preschool waiting list just weeks after he was born was not a detail I
could reflect on. Nor, did the fact that I left him at the home of this babysitter who gave me a very dark,
gnawing eerie feeling that wouldn't go away, ever hit me mentally. I could not, due to the mind control I
was under, consciously think about any of this.

Each year my husband and I would attend the American Dental Association's annual convention,
which was often held in Anaheim, California. In addition to the regular dental convention agenda, I was
programmed to switch and then slip off to side rooms where I presented the latest in mind control
technology for the dentists who wanted to own the best assistants money could buy, complete with all
the latest enhancements available. Then at night we went to Disneyland. On several of these nights the
park was closed to the public at large, in order to entertain the dentists and their families. Our
controllers never missed an opportunity to combine functions so that they could accomplish two or more
things at once. Of course, at Disneyland my family and I were reprogrammed and reconditioned in order
to preserve our high level programming. Nothing was ever what it seemed and often there was an
alternate agenda, a parallel reality going on at the same time as a publicly acceptable event.

Back in Agoura, there were nights I was triggered to walk out of our home on Valley Heights Drive
to the waiting car of Secret Service agents or other men in suits in order to be flown to many different
destinations. Clothes were always provided and were kept separate from those I wore at home, lest I gain
access to my memory by the sight of clothing I had worn on a "government mission."
Drugged

My husband's dental training came in handy, as he was adept at injecting my arm with drugs that
our controllers wanted me to have. There also were flat, round, chalky tasting tablets, the size of Rolaids,
that he gave me at times before I was taken away by the Secret Service agents. There were lots of drugs
given to me orally and intravenously over the years and I never knew what they were, I simply
dissociated and complied when they were administered.

Around this time, my husband announced that he had located a beautiful piece of property in an
exclusive area of Agoura, called "Old Agoura." Wanting to share his find with me he drove me down a
little one-lane country road that led to a secluded dirt road. We entered a beautiful rural area, dotted
with huge oak trees everywhere and there was a beautiful stream that went through the land. Craig
introduced me to Aaron Funk who was the owner of one whole side of the street. This stranger
announced that he was hand-selecting his neighbors for this exclusive area, and we were to be among
them. This property was located less than a block from the entrance of Bob Hope's 2,324-acre Jordan
Ranch. Within days, an agreement was struck, and although my husband was fresh out of dental school,
and our funds were extremely limited, he made a financial deal with Mr. Funk to purchase the acre of
land for $78,000. This close proximity to Bob Hope's property factored into my family's abuse, heavily.
(See appendix for map.)

When I was to be used at parties - like at the Queen Mary the night of a supposed dental party
we attended where I was later taken away to service Bob Hope and Alan Cranston - first Craig put some
liquid drug into my drink and I drank it as instructed, "Drink it like a shooter, one gulp and it's down."
Then Craig gave me some drug from a plastic bag that he pulled out of his suit pocket. He took the white
powdery substance and wet it on a mirror, put the liquid into a syringe and injected it into my arm. At
different times, he gave me shots in a variety of places - my arms, thighs, hip and buttocks. Sometimes he
tied a rubber tourniquet very tightly around my arm before he gave me the injection. These injections
hurt sometimes, especially the ones in my lower arms near my wrist. Sometimes he would try to use
veins there and the shots really stung. My husband was an expert in laying out this drug paraphernalia in
preparation for readying me for an event. He knew my arm like a road map and where to hit the good
veins.

A man in a suit frequently delivered a supply of the drugs to our house, intended for me. He left it
high in the top corner of the garage, taped to the wall. I saw Craig retrieve it from that location on a
number of occasions.

My husband also injected me before porn was filmed. They were still using me in porn in my 30's.
Craig injected me, just before my use, oftentimes when I was in someone else's car ready to be taken to
my assignment. If one of the kids came up at that time, he would yell at them to get back in the house.
Sometimes there was a certain smell to certain drugs, almost like sulfur. When porn was filmed in the
dental office, "Dr. Ford" injected me or gave me some tablet or wafer to eat, beforehand. I don't know
what the deciding factor was as to whether the drug was given interveniously or orally, but I sat in the
dental chair and watched as my husband mixed up the powder on the dental tray, liquidized it, placed
the liquid into a syringe and then shot it into my arm. Only then could they start the porn. I was always
drugged before filming pornography.

As our children grew older, they also were drugged before they were used.

While retrieving some of these drugged memories, I didn't feel any emotions. It was as if I was
just a "doll" and not real. Rag doll is a very common program theme among female slaves. Bob used to
refer to me as his doll.

It took two years after retrieving these drug memories before I could actually begin to feel the pain
and betrayal of this act performed, unconsciously, but still, by my own husband. And, until I had a
sufficient amount of memories of our early cross-programming, I could only see my husband as a
perpetrator, and not as the victim of the same evil system that he truly was.

The Birth of Our Second Mind Controlled Child

Bob Hope's "Little Filly" and George Bush's "Bush Baby"

In 1977 we decided, or it was decided for us, that it was time to have a second child. I kept saying I
wanted to go to Maui to conceive this second child after dental school. Actually, our controllers had
planned it all. Craig and I arrived on Maui and he told me to dress for dinner. Being in the mood to
celebrate, Craig made us a Hawaiian cocktail in our hotel suite. It tasted like a combination of a Mai Tai
and a Pina Colada, and it must have been drugged. I drank the drink as we watched the beautiful Maui
sunset from our balcony. Then I went into our bedroom and dressed in a beautiful clingy, long purple
dress and we went out as my husband had told me I thought to dinner. Instead of what I thought was
going to be a lobster dinner, I ended up staying in a hospital for a few days. In fact, I was flown from the
island in a helicopter, with a facemask on through which I was breathing some kind of drug, to a hospital
where they did something to me (I believe Kelly was genetically engineered) and I was in this hospital for
awhile. The doctors wore green surgical scrubs and did something to me vaginally. I don't know exactly
what. They had test tubes, the glass kind that were very long and slender, and they looked at each other
over their green facemasks. They didn't speak out loud but their eyes looked very serious. I had an IV
in my left arm that was tied to a board with cotton and gauze around it. After that night I became deathly
ill, severely nauseated, and I don't really remember much else that happened on that trip.

When Craig finally picked me up after they finished with me, they had me dress once again in my
purple dress, and then Craig took me to the awaited lobster dinner. At that time there was a switch in my
personality system and I didn't (couldn't) consciously know what had transpired. But that is how I really
got pregnant with Kelly. Craig and I weren't allowed to have sex for awhile, but were allowed to as they
said, "enjoy it in your mind." Kelly was the classic blonde, blue-eyed prototype, with large cheekbone
structure, and all the right things they wanted for her to be sexual. Years later, Sylvester Stallone would
comment that Kelly looked to him like a little 'Bo Derek.' The UCLA doctors were in correspondence with
other doctors on Maui. When I got pregnant with Kelly on Maui in June of 1977, they monitored this
conception heavily. When we returned to the mainland, I found out I was actually pregnant. I began
spotting and my doctor recommended I go to bed, which I did for a few days until the spotting ceased.
Kelly has a personality named Papaya, in honor of, and use for, Hawaiian experiences. As I remembered
this experience, in obedience with my programming, my heart started racing and I felt like I was having a
heart attack.

Our daughter, Kelly Suzanne Ford was born on February 23, 1978, and from then on Kevin wasn't
always the main focus of the torturous trauma - Kelly was.

The torture and trauma began right after her birth. While we were still in Valley Presbyterian
Hospital in Van Nuys, California, three men in suits came into the hospital room and closed the door.
They took my new baby girl out of her bassinet, held her up and put a pistol to her head. Another man
put a gun to my head and the third man stood guard at the hospital room door. The man holding the gun
to my head said, "If you fail to follow our instructions, just one time..." he clicked the gun, but nothing
happened, "we will just have to kill this precious little one." Then the man holding Kelly took a wad of
Kleenex off my hospital tray, wadded it up and put it into the glass of water on my tray in order to wet it.
He held my precious baby girl faced downward and forced the wad of wet Kleenex into her mouth,
interfering with her ability to breathe.

With a gun to my head, I watched in absolute horror and terror, as my baby girl choked and
gagged and then went limp in the man's arms. I thought she was dead. Then he said, "That's all it takes.
It's as simple and easy as that." He took Kelly into the bathroom and did something to revive her because
she was breathing again, and began crying loudly. The man literally threw her into my arms and said,
"Mama, your baby is crying, maybe she's hungry." Then, they forced me to breastfeed her in front of
them while they watched and then they left. The hospital nurse never knew they were there and since I
was programmed, I was unable to think or remember it had happened so that I could get help. That was
one of Kelly's first life experiences - one of her first birth traumas.

As an aside, I will share with you the reader, that as I sought recovery and understanding of what
was wrong with me, I attended groups for people suffering with Multiple Personality Disorder. It was an
enlightening time of new understanding as I met and shared with other Multiples, some who were RN's,
intensive care nurses and therapists also attempting to heal. It leads me to wonder if some of the nurses
and doctors in the hospital who attended the birth of my children were themselves programmed and
controlled? In one particular Christian group I attended for Multiples who had been ritually abused, in
the opening prayer, an MPD'd, ritually abused nurse prayed for the Lord to heal one of us so we could
expose this atrocity and get help for the others. As she made her request, I knew it would be me that
would heal and go for help. I healed as fast as I could, but help didn't come as quickly as I would have
liked.

When Kelly turned three months old, our family moved into a large doublewide portable home on
the recently purchased Chesebro Road property in Old Agoura, where we began life as "chosen"
neighbors. Soon we had an architect draw up plans to build a large two-story home. The open,
undeveloped area provided access to our family in many ways. Aaron Funk moved away and we were left
on the street with only one neighbor. Helicopters could land in the adjacent area, and Bob Hope's Jordan
Ranch would later be used for countless encounters; none of them were pleasant.

Our lives went on and, as programmed, I dutifully delivered my little daughter to Point Mugu
Naval Weapons Base in California where military men took her from my arms wrapped in a beautiful
pink blanket my mother knit for her. They kept her for a long while and then brought her back out to me.
Sometimes when they needed to have one of my children for programming I was instructed to park my
car on Las Virgenes Road, just past Agoura Road, and the men in suits picked us up and drove us the rest
of the way to Point Mugu.

As Kelly grew a little older, at around age two our programmers laid her by my side on a gurney
where we were both hooked up to sensors all over our bodies - head, chest, and pulse points (wrist and
neck artery), in order to monitor something. What exactly, I don't know. The men working on us wore
surgical greens so I assumed they were doctors. Kelly and I were drugged and totally out of it. I watched
as my little baby daughter's eyes rolled up in her head like she was convulsing. Sometimes they put a
mask over our faces to further drug us or injected drugs into our forearms and sometimes there was even
an IV bottle left to drip for us both. There was one IV bottle, with the tubing split into two, one for me
and one for Kelly. They also hooked us up to sounds delivered through earphones and often added bright
lights. It felt like they programmed Kelly and I through sound and light by hooking us both up to wires.
It seemed like we were getting a blood transfusion, but we were connected to wires instead of tubes and
there was no blood.

There were also water experiments. They put me into a metal ball with a door and plunged me
into the water, spun it and immersed it deeply. It was hard to tell what was going on from my position
inside. It was very dark and very confining. I just pretended I was somewhere on the beach until it was
over. If I had to guess, I would say they were doing experiments and research on the mind and the brain.

Sometimes we were encapsulated and were weightless. There were all different sorts of chairs; some
were for electroshock. One had a headrest with a band on it and straps for our wrists and straps for our
ankles. They would zap me, and Kelly would be in the same kind of chair facing me and then they would
zap her. It was horrific to watch her being tortured. They would have to almost carry her off when it was
through because she was so out of it. The electoshock was usually the last thing they did. But before the
electroshock, sometimes we were subjected to virtual reality machines, like moving rides we entered with
a video screen showing pictures with lights and sound. After we were in it for awhile, they took us out
and tested us with EEG and EKG equipment and asked us to fill out questionnaires, or they would ask us
to write down the answers to questions they casually wrote down. The questions were related to what we
had just seen, how we experienced it, and how we felt or there were questions about different
personalities within us; maybe they were checking our programming or our inner systems.

There were other machines we entered where the floor tilted while our feet were tied down and
we'd lean over, and sometimes there were mirrors where we looked distorted. There was lots of virtual
reality equipment. One apparatus was a helmet with front eyeglasses attached with wires all over. They
placed it on me and I saw a visual of lightening striking the top of my head while I was feeling
electroshock to the top of my head. Then I heard the words, "You feel no pain. Hit by a bolt of lightning
yet you feel no pain." After all this they tested me neurologically to see if I could walk, touch my nose, etc.

Once I was tied inside a big roller and, with hands and feet tied spread eagle, they spun it real fast and
then took me out. Kelly wasn't always there, but she was present more often than I care to remember. I
remember the two of us laying next to each other on the gurney with towels over our bodies, IV's in our
arms, with glasses and goggles on and we were totally drugged. There was a dolphin tank at Point Mugu,
with an underwater window where they could watch as we swam with the dolphins. Swimming with the
dolphins usually signaled the end of it. After that, we were returned to our car that was parked
somewhere in Agoura or in the canyon.

I thought United States military officials were supposed to be in service to protect and defend
their country and its citizens. Where are the high ranking men of honor that protect and defend the
women and children in this country? What has gone wrong?

Genetic Engineering

Soon after I had finished breastfeeding Kelly in 1979, I continued to have severe pain in my female
reproductive organs that no one seemed to be able to help me with or understand the origin of. Dr.
Galloway, the doctor that delivered Kelly, admitted me to Valley Presbyterian Hospital in Van Nuys,
California. Late in the day I was assigned a hospital bed and understood that my doctor had ordered a D
& C for me. He explained that this was standard operating procedure.

Later on, I was taken into surgery, a mask was put over my face, and I was anesthetized with some
sort of gas. It was nighttime when they performed this procedure on me that wasn't a real D & C; they
really took my ovum for in vitro fertilization with other genetic strains. "Ideal genes, from healthy stock,"
they said. I cannot identify the doctors who were doing this to me.

Before I became pregnant with Kevin, they had taken other ovum during times when I was
previously hospitalized for so-called "surgery." They thought I couldn't hear, but I could hear and see
what they were doing. I was out-of-body and could hear and see everything they did. Their perception of
reality seemed to be limited to the physical world. They didn't yet understand that a person could be outof-
body, that it is possible to take your consciousness out of your body to see and experience events in
other locations. While my body was lying on the operating table under anesthesia, from my out-of-body
position overhead, I could see their side of the table with equipment they used to take my ovum and a
special dish with a special solution that they used to put the ovum in. Immediately upon placement of the
ovum into the dish, a nurse came in and quickly took it away somewhere.

This is genetic engineering. These people do this a lot - they steal women's ovum to experiment
on. They take good genetic stock. This is why, later on, I wanted a hysterectomy; subconsciously, I
wanted to stop what they were doing.

I recorded in my memory files what I overheard the doctors say that night in the operating room:
"Her children by her husband are inferior to those created here. We can team this ovum up with superior
sperm to create a superior genus. These children will one day rule the world and we will be able to weed
out the weaker genetic strains. Room must be made for this advanced race. The plan has been carefully
orchestrated. It will come about with "our strains" in leadership. We have chosen the genetic strains of
leaders, those whose drive is to lead, and to that end we have "strained in" health, intellect, and
leadership qualities. These children will be raised in isolation, like the leaders in the shadows and will be
taught advanced skills from birth meditation, diet, emotion modulation, and will be fed a strict diet of
higher knowledge. The rulers of the future will be elite in every way, shape and form. We have spliced her
genetic health and intellect strains with those perfect physical forms of the intellect donor to create the
perfect species - both male and female. These strains will rise to the top. The forms will be so advanced
that the normal human species will not be able to compete, and so ours will be the elite - the ruling class
- and the lower forms will be the so-called worker-bees. There is no way the normal man can compete.

Ours is the elite. We will soon have enough of our people grown and implanted with our direction and
our wisdom, and now that we know how to program their minds from birth, we will have total and
complete control. They will be ours - a race - a genus we can be proud of, created from the best genetic
structure on earth."

They said, "The future on earth belongs to the scientists. It is time we weed out the inferior races."
Under the direction of my doctors, I mindlessly and compulsively charted a graph of my
temperature to know when I was ovulating. Now I understand why that was so important. They even did
an experiment of combining my genes with those of my husband's best friend and colleague. On one
occasion, while he was performing so-called "oral surgery," while I was under anesthetic, they had him
mount me to impregnate me. Then, I was instructed to report to UCLA where they took the spermfertilized
egg from my uterus. They compared which genetic structure was superior - between those
created in vitro and those created by a natural union and then taken from the body to mature.

This determination to create a 'superior race' is, as you may remember, the same drive that fueled
Hitler's regime in Germany. One needs only to read Linda Hunt's book, Secret Agenda: The United
States Government, Nazi Scientists, and Project Paperclip, and then visit the Holocaust Museum in
Washington, DC, in order to put two and two together. If you observe some of the pictures of innocent
people in the concentration camps as they are being used for brain and behavior experimentation, it's
easy to ascertain that more was occurring than just the torture of innocent Jewish people for religious or
racial purposes. This experimentation was also done intentionally in order to further the understanding
of the mind and body, and how people could be controlled.

We as a people have not fully embraced the reality of the horrors in Germany that were
perpetrated on victims there, and to that end we allow it to continue to the present, as those who should
have been prosecuted for their war crimes often went free. As a matter of fact, through Project Paperclip,
many were brought to our country by the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), which was our own
intelligence apparatus at the time. They were placed in our major universities and hospitals to continue
their unconscionable scientific research. It was through the invaluable wizardry of one of these Project
Paperclip Nazis, General Reinhard Gehlen (German Intelligence Specialist), that our fledgling CIA came
into being just after World War Il, and the "Cold War" was born.

Len Horowitz, in his book Emerging Viruses: Aids and Ebola - Nature, Accident or Intentional?
points to a linkage between Henry Kissinger and General Alexander Bolling. He mentions that Gen.
Bolling played a major role in Project Paperclip as well as the Joint Intelligence Committee, a newly
formed administrative unit that recruited former Nazi scientists expert in mind control. Their combined
research activity soon led to classified projects that paved the way for the CIA's Project MKULTRA.
Horowitz also links Kissinger to oversight of project MKNAOMI, a military program to develop biological
weapons having genocidal application. The Rockefellers, who spearheaded a national eugenics
movement, supported research activities of similar nature to Project MKULTRA and MKNAOMI through
their preWW II funding of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute whose director was, at one time, Joseph
Mengele's superior. As you may remember, Mengele conducted horrific medical experiments at
Auschwitz, many that were related to mind control. All of these facts are discussed in Horowitz's
meticulously documented work.

From reading I did after I reintegrated and deprogrammed, I began to understand that the newly
created CIA and the Rockefellers with all of their money and foundations, carefully researched and hired
top former Nazi scientists to carry on their personal belief in creating a "master (Aryan) race." They are
doing so through mind control experimentation and genetics research in systems within the confines of
carefully white-washed hospital or university research facilities, not to mention military bases.
The Holocaust has not ended, it has just gone underground, and the victims are silent due to the
mind control they have been put under.

I believe these scientists have fallen short in their understanding that, while the physical, genetic
structure a baby is born with is very important, God in His perfection has patterned a life for this child.
When this is altered by human intervention, it no longer can serve the highest purpose for the child's
lifetime. It is not just the physical structure that rules a life of a child. A 'soul' is born into the body, and if
left to the natural order of God in His infinite wisdom, there is a higher agenda and purpose to be
accomplished. How can man in his finite wisdom begin to believe that he can out-create the Creator? I
don't believe that physical perfection is the main goal here. Scientists will forever be lost in their own
egos until they realize the absolute divine and perfective nature of God.

Dental Office Money Laundering Schemes

Arnold Stengle was our first accountant, but was replaced by Bruce Frank who was an accountant
from Soquel, California. He directed me how to handle the dental office books from his Northern
California office, and visited our office every now and then in order to further direct me. To give me
instructions, he would sit across from me at my little office in the back. I would put my hands up to my
head, my elbows to my knees and in "ready and alert" program stance, I would listen as programmed to
"every word spoken." And he always had lists upon lists of 4digit number series. I don't know what they
meant, but I would rattle them off later to different people, especially Reagan.

I also was programmed to report to different banks in the area. One was Safra Bank in Woodland
Hills. On a typical day I went to the Safra Bank underground parking and when I entered the parking lot
I was programmed to switch to Sharon. Then I went into the bank. When I entered the bank a man in a
suit was waiting and gestured for me to go to a woman teller. I did as instructed and handed her the
envelopes that two men had just given me in the underground parking lot. I never knew exactly what was
in the envelopes, but when the teller opened them there were usually checks and cash. When the
transaction was completed, I drove back to the office, switched now to Susan, and not having a clue that I
had just been used to perform an illegal banking transaction for my controllers. Years later when I filed
for divorce, my California attorney, Doug Wolfe, told me to go sign papers at Safra Bank before the
divorce could go through. I remembered feeling really scared, but I went to the bank like I was told and
signed a paper a man put out on his desk for me to sign. When I was through at the bank a man later
used a stun gun on my back near my waist as he said, "You're a real waste, do as you're told to do and
nothing more, nothing less, or you will be a mess."

Reagan Is President and Our Vice President is a Pedophile

Over the years, Kelly was closely tied into the trauma I received. Repeatedly she was tortured and
traumatized in front of me in an effort to keep me in line. Her torture fragmented her psyche in order to
create multiple personalities within her, so she could follow in my footsteps for later use as a
"presidential model." Unfortunately, she didn't have to wait very long for that so-called "privilege" as our
newly elected Vice President at the time, George Bush, was/is a pedophile and Kelly was created to be, as
I later found out from a renegade CIA operative, what was called a "Bush Baby."

Barbara Bush brought snacks in on a tray to the delight of the children clustered around her
husband. The kids munched on animal cookies with sprinkles on top as they listened to the Vice
President read them stories. The reality created and the accompanying program he delivered was, "You
are what you read." This was during the time they lived in the house with the flat rock fireplace. The
fireplace had a stone bench that you could sit on in front of the fireplace and George had his easy chair
near it. There was a brown coffee table and a couch, and hunting pictures of Springer Spaniels holding
birds in their mouths and pointing, graced the walls. George was into that sort of stuff.

Barbara thought I was there as a representative of the new educational system being implemented
in California, which was true, although I wasn't consciously aware of it, and she was told that the
children were there to demonstrate to the Vice President just how well the new system was working. But
later, when the demonstration was over, Bush would take Kelly or another small child to the bathroom or
to "show them something special."

During the time the Vice President disappeared with my daughter, Barbara often made lots of
small talk, always smiling, cheery and pleasant, speaking nothing of importance. She talked a lot,
especially when her husband was out of the room. I was on edge, even under mind control, as parts of
me sensed that my little girl was being hurt. The connection between mother and child often makes
physical presence unnecessary to know the status of one's child, and it was difficult to carry on small talk
with Mrs. Bush while my child was being raped. The Vice President brought Kelly back when he was
finished. She looked dazed and out of it.

Bob Hope arranged many other times for George to be with Kelly in different and more private
settings. There was a weekend retreat home the Bush's went to in the mountains, so they could relax, and
George would take their dog out hunting wild fowl. Barbara stayed inside and baked and did
needlepoint, like a typical housewife. I believe that she was unaware that her husband was molesting
droves of little girls. George always said he had a special place in his heart for little girls.

Bob Hope Utilizes His Little Filly Asset

When Kelly was brought to Bob's parties, he gave her as a gift to known pedophiles that liked little
girls. Then, he really owned these men. He would act like he really thought it was okay to have sex with a
child, to men he knew were pedophiles. Without actually saying it in words, he portrayed that attitude
and then after the person had raped the child he would say something like, "Do you know what news like
this could do to your career?...to your family?" At the parties, these children were kept in a back room.
On nights I was programmed to act as 'the hostess,' I was instructed to escort men back to the room
where the children waited for this expressed purpose. I was even programmed to facilitate their choice in
which child they wanted for the evening. Sometimes, acting from program, I even offered my own
daughter to these men.

Kelly was brought to Bob's on nights when men who had "younger preference" were in
attendance. Bob used that term with people like George Bush. When Kelly was nearly three years old she
was provided to George Bush to satisfy his pedophile desires. Bob invited a group of men with "younger
preferences," and later provided them with a group of children, both male and female, for their pleasure.
With people he really wanted to own or use he would take pictures of the molestation with hidden
cameras. He knew just how to get to these people. Then afterwards he would show them a picture of the
rape of the child and say, "We sure don't want these pictures, or any others like these to get into the
wrong hands and ruin your entire career, do we?" Then he would simply tell the man what he wanted, in
exchange for impunity. It usually had to do with getting another "friend" of his into a "key" position in
the government, looking the other way when a case came down, or getting a bill passed or vetoed. He
knew just how to control these men and they usually complied.

In 1993 as I was attempting to get free and get my first book published, due to the fact that I was
not cooperating and "staying in line," I was raped and then forced, under mind control, to pose for
pictures that if shown to others would have totally discredited me, making me look like a perpetrator. In
this type of scenario, the media is called in and a person is publicly discredited--end of threat! Back in
the 60's and 70's I watched as people in positions of authority were set up and compromised in the same
manner in order that they could be used. And in the 90's I watched with horror, as many of the dedicated
individuals who were attempting to end this abuse and help the victims, were publicly discredited, often
via mainstream media channels.

Hunted by Bush on Hope's Jordan Ranch

George Bush was one of the men in safari uniform on Bob Hope's property who hunted me when
Kelly was little. Bob was laughing when he laid down the rules. "There will be no running, or hiding, you
will simply stroll along the path, skipping, if you like, dancing if you wish, but NO running, until you are
TRAPPED. It's inevitable, there is no escaping it, especially with an expert hunter like George." Looking
me in the eye, Bob said, "Are there any questions?"

I shook my head no.

"Good, then remember, every step you take may be your last." As a helicopter touched down off in
the distance in this rural Jordan Ranch area, Bob said, "Bush will be coming from a different angle."
I walked down the road, which with every step I took, became more and more like The Yellow
Brick Road that I had been programmed since childhood to follow. I was absolutely terrified, waiting to
be attacked, killed. . . whatever; I didn't know what they had in store for me this day. I walked for a long
time and it felt like I was hallucinating along the way. In my mind, playing over and over like a horror
movie were Bob's words, "Every step you take may be your last."

In my blue jeans and red checkered shirt, I kept walking. I was still walking when it got dark and I
was really scared then because I was so far away from where I had begun. My arm ached from the
injection they had given me in the bend of my arm and I rubbed it wishing I wasn't so alone in the world.
I was getting frantic, totally panicked by now and I just kept walking. Nothing seemed real anymore. I
felt like a caged animal and I couldn't remember the rules any longer. I was trying so hard to remember
exactly what Bob had said, thinking if I just did it right that I wouldn't get hurt and my children would be
safe. But my drugged terror was escalating, and I couldn't think anymore, I felt like I was losing control.
After what seemed like a very long time, George Bush stepped out from an old outhouse-type
structure that was on Bob's ranch and calmly walked over to me, "Betcha didn't think I'd ever be hiding
in there, did ya?" and he laughed. "Well, I like to play hide and seek a lot but there's only two of us here
so let's play another game that only requires two, the two of us."

I nodded, frozen in terror.

"I just happen to have an apple. A beautiful red apple here in my pocket." He pulled the apple out
and said, "I know the game is supposed to be played with a bow and arrow (I'd been accidentally shot
with an arrow in the jaw when I was five) but I forgot mine. I did remember however to bring my
revolver." And he pulled a gun out of his other pocket. "Now, this game is called William Tell, and you
get to play William. Here, you stand over here, so if I miss, the bullet will go into the tree instead of
traveling wildly out of control."

He placed me in front of an oak tree and put the apple on top of my head. By now I was crying. I
couldn't help it, I just couldn't control it. "Please don't hurt my kids anymore," I begged.

Bush said, "Shhh, don't interrupt. We're playing a game now. Now just stand real still and
remember your name is William Tell, and this is what happens if you don't." Slowly, he cocked the gun
and took aim at the apple on my head or me, I couldn't tell which. Then, taking his time he said very
slowly as he took aim, "Ok are you ready for the games to begin? Will you tell?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and he lowered the gun as he sighed real disgustedly, "No, no, you can't
close your eyes, you have to see this coming, otherwise it won't be any fun at all."

So, I opened my eyes and George took aim again and said, "Remember this is what happens if you
don't TELL." He kept aiming and re-aiming trying to get it just right and then he asked me again if I was
ready.

"Yes, Sir," I answered.

He put the gun down to listen to me, then took aim again, "Now what's the magic message?"
"Don't tell," I answered. Immediately, he fired and shot the apple off my head. It blasted a hole in
the middle of it and blew out a huge chunk and he walked over, picked it up off the ground and said,
"Looks like we both won this time. You wait for your ride, I'll take mine another way," and he
disappeared.

I tried to see where he went in the dark but I couldn't locate him. Shortly after, a couple of
cowboys that tended the cattle on Bob's ranch came driving by in their old pick up truck and angrily said,
"Get in, we'll give you a ride back to the end of the road. You're trespassing lady." So I climbed into the
back of their pick up truck, not even on the seat in the cab and bounced all the way back to the end of the
road. Then, I walked the short distance home.

When I walked in the house, Craig said, "Where have you been? I got dinner started and was
getting worried."

"Oh, I was over at the neighbor's," I answered, falling into line helping with the kids and the
dinner. During dinner, I just wanted to hold Kelly, who was two years old, and kept feeling so glad she
was safe, at least for now.

I kept rocking her at the dinner table and it was a good thing my daughter was in my lap or I
probably would have appeared as I really was, "psychotically experiencing an episode." That's what they
told me the doctors would say if I went to them for help. "They'll say you're psychotic," Bob said, "and it
won't take them long to figure it out. It will be obvious."

George Bush lorded and ruled over me for years once I had children. There were lots of scary
program tactics they installed to insure the safety of his use of Kelly and me.

Mission Assignment on Maui

An early experience of cross-programming with Kelly took place in order for me to be used with
newly elected President Ronald Reagan and Kelly with Vice President George Bush, on Maui.
My pedophile father, Calvin Eckhart, paid for my husband, young children, and I to vacation with
him and my mother to Hawaii. This was a trip to the island of Maui in 1981 where I was taken from my
family to be of service to my country, to serve President Reagan and others. Before the trip Bob Hope
checked Kelly out at a distance. My father took us to a public park in Reseda, California and, although at
the time he was very physically debilitated, he gave Bob a hand signal as we passed by. Bob looked at
Kelly and gave my father a wink and a thumbs-up sign and we left.

Like all these "missions" before, I was totally amnesiac of this occurrence and could not remember
much of what happened at all during the vacation. At the time, I did not realize I couldn't remember
what happened on the vacation. It was only years afterwards that awareness was available to me. Then,
the only thing I could recall about this trip was having dinner at the Charthouse on Front Street, in
Lahaina with my parents, husband and children. I remembered that my five-year-old son Kevin ordered
lobster, and that was all I could remember about that trip until years later when I returned to Maui
without my family in 1991. Then the memories of that earlier trip began flooding back as I sat under the
large mango tree located in front of the same place I had been taken to be with Reagan - the Puamana.

It all began like it had every other time before. Three men in suits barged into our hotel room
where my family was sleeping and took Kelly and I out of the room. She was 2'/2 years old. Then they
took us to another room and tortured us both in front of one another, programmed in some instructions
for me, and then they took me away. At that time I didn't know where they took Kelly. The personalities
inside of me that were programmed for use with Reagan and others on this trip never knew what
happened to my children during that time. The personalities I had that performed everyday, mundane,
routine jobs, were amnesiac to the whole experience-they never knew it happened. Such is the reality of
Multiple Personality Disorder and mind control through trauma-based programming.

I overheard my controllers speak amongst themselves explaining that the Puamana was specially
selected for security purposes and had the advantage that it could be accessed by both land and sea.
Seaplanes could secretly fly in foreign dignitaries at night. It was a gate-guarded complex that was easily
protected by the Secret Service, insuring secrecy and privacy.

I was on Maui for a ten-day stay, supposedly to vacation with my family, and was used part of the
time as a go-between with Reagan and many other politicians and foreign dignitaries. During the time at
the Puamana, my job was to help make Ron and Nancy more comfortable. I researched restaurants and
places to order food and did everything I was told to do to help them, in addition to being the "secretary"
for mind files use at their meetings and later having sex with Reagan. I took shorthand, but more
importantly could secretly "record" everything I heard and saw for later debriefing by Kissinger or the
Council.

Nancy could see that I had a credible job, but when she would say anything accusatorily about
me, Reagan would deny it and tell her she was just over-reacting and he would kiss her very lovingly on
the cheek. All in all, she was not pleased that I was there. She was angry and unpleasant to me. She hated
it when I was around. I hated it when she was around too; everyone was on guard because of her
attitudes. Reagan occasionally spoke to me about her as if she was unreasonable, but mostly he would
defend her, saying she was probably just a little tired or cranky.

I liked it when Ronnie (that's what he told me to call him when we were alone) and I walked on
the beach in the dark together, as there was no one to interrupt us. Nancy never knew where we "really"
were because Ronnie would tell the Secret Service agents to tell her that he was going to be in a meeting.
They were instructed to keep an eye on her and make sure she stayed inside the room for safety, since it
was dark outside. Reagan told them he would need me to be at the meeting, as I was functioning as his
secretary at certain times and he would need my help. Then we would go off together to "do business."

Sometimes we did do business, but more often we would go off alone together and I would give
him my "undivided sexual attention." I also gave him any information I was instructed and
preprogrammed to give to him from the Council and others. Once elected, Ronnie said to me, "Can you
believe I'm President now? Does it feel any different to you to be here with me?" He often complained
about his job and how hard it was. That seemed to be where I translated his words to mean, "Please baby
me, pamper me, take care of me, coddle me," and I did just that. Whatever he wanted or needed, I was
programmed to perform for him.

I was assigned a room on the beachfront at Puamana. The room was actually just another one of
his rooms a place where they took me to be alone with him. The Secret Service agents acted like they did
not see or were not watching, but sometimes I would notice them snickering or smiling at things I did
with Reagan.

The Council told me what to do, when to do it, what words to use and what to say later on in the
evening to have the greatest impact on Reagan. I don't think he ever knew I was being "an actress" -
doling out the lines I had been programmed to deliver - but he loved it! So did Tricky Dick (Nixon).
These tactics worked especially well on old men, and that is exactly what these men were.

This late night rendezvous at the Puamana, in the little pool overlooking the ocean, I bounded out
of the pool and began unfastening my bikini top. I took it off and began dancing, slinging it around like I
had been trained to do, as I sang, "Let me entertain you," like I had done for Bob Hope. Reagan was
laughing and a bit embarrassed, I guess because of the Secret Service's presence, but he didn't stop me. I
slowly pulled off my bikini bottom, danced around more and then slipped back into the pool next to him,
naked. This personality, specially created and devoted to Reagan, was very comfortable being naked. I
never even considered picking up my bikini afterwards. As I climbed out of the pool, Reagan put a large
beach towel around me and the Secret Service agents picked up my wet bikini and brought it inside.
The Secret Service agents were usually younger than the Presidents and I could see in their faces
that I had their respect and admiration, but was confused as to why. Sometimes after these antics, they
would have a little grin on their faces.

The words that went with these little acts were not political, but were used by the Council to
entertain and bring Reagan closer to me, to make him want me. They figured if he wanted to be with me,
they could use me to slip important messages to him later on after sex, upon awakening or in the evening
when he was just dozing off to sleep. The Council knew that, if they could keep him interested and
pampered over the years, they could maintain control over him.

I was programmed to make him feel good. I did everything he wanted and helped soothe him
when he was troubled or distressed, and I even had some opinions that he was surprised I was "old
enough" to have. President Reagan said I was, "wise beyond my years," but he never did know that I
wasn't really--I just had the Council pre-empting me. I would say that I was so interested in his success
and the success of our nation that I read up on things in the newspaper and got a new "idea" or
perspective after my research. Or, I would say that an idea just came to me. I don't believe he knew just
exactly to what extent I was being set up for him. The Council knew just what would make a man happy,
and more importantly they studied exactly what each man specifically liked or disliked.

Newly elected Vice President George Bush was at the Puamana for this trip, also. He and Reagan
were having all sorts of leaders secretly flown in by seaplane to the back of the complex in the middle of
the night. My job was to go and greet many of them as they arrived and help them to their rooms in the
dark. Some were foreign ambassadors. They had meetings with these men and had a formal gathering
one evening in the large banquet room that was used for parties. It was decorated in red, white, and blue,
as it was soon after Reagan and Bush had been elected and many of the foreign dignitaries were
congratulating them.

I overheard Reagan and Bush talking before the party and Bush told Reagan that this was an
important night to lay the groundwork for future negotiations with certain foreign countries. These
leaders were flown in, spent a couple of days and were flown back out.

The men from Saudi Arabia had to be flown in on separate days because I overheard them saying
that they would not "mix" with the other guests. No one spoke of them afterwards to any of the other
guests. They wore their white robes or native dress and were mostly dark-skinned.

George Bush seemed like the leader as far as these negotiations went and I noticed that Reagan
"leaned on him" heavily for guidance and instruction. Bush had done his homework and studied the
situations and Reagan took his expert advice. Although I don't remember Kissinger being present for this
meeting, at other times, Reagan also took advice from Kissinger.

George Bush pounced on me when I least expected it, often delivering a devastatingly terrifying
cryptic message while I was speaking to some foreign ambassador or politician at a White House
function, gala, ground breaking, or golf with Hope. But this time we were on Maui at the newly-elected
President's dinner. He waited until no one was around and then said, "I don't know what the President
sees in you. He must have on some of those strange Elton John glasses, that make you look otherworldly
like a little green Martian."

Later at night, I was told to stand out at the beach and wait until I was signaled with a flashing
light and then I was instructed to swim out through the surf to the sailing vessel. A man aboard the big
white sailing vessel took me aboard and into a darkened room below where a man sitting in the dark
delivered a message to me, "You are to tell Reagan it's a green light. It's a go. And tell Bush to keep his
dirty mitts off this one." Then he laughed and said, "No instead say, 'George, the men on high say that
they have got this one covered. Anything you do would only interfere in the master plan."' Then he said,
"You may go now. Take flight and deliver your messages on cue."

I walked robotically out of the room and over to the area on the boat where there wasn't a railing,
dove off and swam back to the beach. The Council maintained vigilant contact with Reagan especially
during this trip. Reagan was aware that I swam to get information because he commented that it turned
him on when I swam to my assignment.

I swam often and had programming that allowed me to swim long distances without tiring. This
swim program was often tied to 'dolphin themes' in my conscious mind so, in case I began to remember,
my thoughts were automatically directed to thinking about how much I loved dolphins. These are the
words that directed my swim programming: "Your body is warm as you glide through the water,
swimming easily, effortlessly, endlessly through the ocean, like a dolphin. Dolphins deliver messages,
and so will you." Other times I swam out from the beach and waited to hear the sound of a helicopter,
and like the dolphin waiting below the spaceship in the movie Cocoon, I waited to be "beamed up." My
programming dictated my reality. I thought that I was living this intentional movie-scrambled reality
while the actual event was hidden beneath the surface of this programming. As I experienced the
flashback of the actual occurrence, I could feel the cold water on my body, taste the salt water and hear
the helicopter. They dangled a rope ladder down and my instructions were to "climb the stairway to
heaven." As I did, I entered the movie reality my programming commanded, and felt like I was on an
angelic/dolphin mission. The rope ladder stung the bottom of my feet. When I made it to the top, a man
grabbed my arm and pulled me in, sat me down, put headphones on my ears and said, "Listen and
learn," as I retained the message to deliver to the leaders.

One night, the Reagans and a foreign guest went to dinner late in the evening. I was taken along
as this man's escort. (I am sorry that at this time I am not able yet to remember his name.) We went by
limo to a restaurant in a large shopping area that had storefronts like boutiques or the French Quarter,
with brick walkways leading to the back and flowers alongside. We ate outside at a patio table
surrounded by bushes and flowers; it was very private. The Secret Service were with us but kept a low
profile, so as not to attract anyone's attention.

Something happened at the restaurant when Nancy and I went to the restroom. She said
something to me about indecently coming on to her husband and then she slapped me. It really messed
me up, as slapping was also part of a program to switch me into different personalities. A Secret Service
agent quickly took me aside. I had switched into a child personality and was crying, and he could not let
me go back to the table like that. He straightened me up, smoothed out the rough emotional edges, and
took me back to the table where everyone was finishing up.

Despite this incident, we had a successful late night dinner with this man and went back to the
Puamana without being detected. It was the only time I knew of that Reagan went into public during the
entire trip. I think this guest had expressed a desire to see the small town of Lahaina. He did not seem
too concerned about the security risks and Bush encouraged Reagan to go and entertain him. Reagan
and Bush usually went into public places separately for security reasons.

After my use with Reagan at the Puamana was over, I was taken back to my family. I do not know
what happened to them in my absence, but just like each occasion before, none of us experienced a break
in time, and no one knew that I was gone or that I had "just" returned.

When we returned to California, no one in my family thought of this hidden experience again, as it was
buried deeply under programming.

Reagan's Ranch

I was also taken to the Ranch to visit President Reagan, as I had at times in the past when he was
Governor. I was picked up in front of my home in Agoura by a man in a suit and was flown to the Ranch
located near Santa Barbara, California. Ronnie insisted saddling up the horses himself when we went
riding, even after he became President. He did not want anyone (including Secret Service agents) to do it
and so he did it himself! I rode the brown horse.

President Reagan "acted" very romantically while we rode, just like we were in some old movie! It
seemed he lived in a type of "movieland" mentality a lot of the time. We rode all over the ranch, down
near the Oak grove on the far side. It was beautiful in the springtime, with green grass and wild flowers
as far as one could see. We got off our horses and he put his arm around my waist and pulled me to him
for a kiss. He explained, "A man needs a young woman in his life to make him feel younger." I just
smiled. I did a lot of that, didn't use many words, just smiled, and was pleasing, helpful and compliant.
That is how I was created to be.

Then Reagan sang, "Younger than springtime." He took his hat off and put it over his heart while
he was singing, just like he was in some musical. He could be very corny.

Later he explained he had barbed wire put in between the wood fencing on the Ranch to keep
people out. He said he didn't like to have to do that, but the Secret Service suggested he go along with it
for security reasons. He explained that he did not like to always have people watching him, but that it
went with the job now-it was different than when he was Governor, but, he explained that nothing could
change our relationship, we would just have to be more careful.

Nancy Reagan was very mean to me, much meaner than Barbara Bush ever was. Barbara Bush
just sort of ignored me altogether, whereas Nancy was very angry and controlling. I liked it best when
Nancy was not around. When Henry Kissinger or George Bush met with Reagan at the ranch, Nancy
served them snacks. I was never allowed to eat, but just sat quietly wherever I was "parked" and recorded
information into my mind files whenever I was directed to. Henry knew just how to file it inside of me,
all in the correct storage areas for easy retrieval later on. They met at the ranch quite often.

Sometimes we flew to meet big leaders in their own country, if they were at all concerned about
the security at the ranch. But most people felt pretty safe there with all of the security systems and the
Secret Service agents.

I observed a lot of Secret Service security techniques because at times Henry left me with them
when I was not being used. Henry sat me next to the agent at the security monitor and told him to keep
an eye on me, but to not feed or talk to me. So, I was able to watch the monitor and listen to the agents.
They even had agents placed at the far corners of the ranch all night long for security. Each agent carried
a walkie-talkie to keep in touch with each other and the agents in the house. A Secret Service agent was
stationed inside the house with television monitors and other equipment to help supervise the agents
outside and was always listening to the men in the field with the walkie-talkies. The agents took shifts so
that there was always someone fresh and alert manning all the "posts" 24 hours a day and night.

Reagan laughed a lot when he was Governor and in the beginning days of his Presidency, but he
acted very differently after he was shot. Kind of like how different Nixon became after the Watergate
scandal broke. Like the life went out of him.

Reagan gave me a bracelet on one occasion when we were at the ranch. But I had to turn it over to
the men who flew me by helicopter back home to Agoura. Nancy had been gone that weekend. She
usually was when Reagan and I were together sexually. But, she saw me when Kissinger and Reagan or
Bush used me at the ranch for mind file use. It seemed like she hated it when she noticed her husband
perk up when I was around, so she was mean to me. Actually, even under mind control the parts of me
that were dedicated to Reagan felt sorry for her, having to be married to him, if he had sex with her in the
same passive manner he did with me.

The Conception of Our Third Child Under Mind Control

In 1980, I felt a deep desire for a third child, though I am not sure if I ever really was solely
responsible for having decided such things on my own, or if it was up to the Council, Bob, Henry, etc. My
husband fought me for months on end, with the logical reasoning that we had the perfect family - a little
boy and girl, and for him they were enough. But for me, it wasn't. I was experiencing excruciating female
reproductive pains and had been for a long time, and my pain seemed to increase as time went on. When
I sought medical help, Dr. Feldman, my OB/GYN doctor, examined me and said, "You have a large
fibroid tumor growing in your uterus," and his avenue of resolve for my worsening condition was a
hysterectomy. Looking back on this situation from where I am now in my more healed
understanding, I realize it was indeed this man's attempt to help me remove my "hysteria."

Unfortunately, I was unable to understand that this hysteria that manifested physically in my innermost
female private part, was the cellularly stored terror and devastation of my children and me. I was unable
to think on my own, but I could understand what I felt. And, what I felt in my heart was that I wanted a
third child and I wanted him desperately. I don't know if I was programmed to know, but I knew then
that this child was to be a boy.

From his authoritative position between my legs, as he examined me, my doctor's orders were
that I could have 30 days to try to conceive a child and after that time I was to return for the
hysterectomy.

Craig and I used the "scientific method," the same method we used in the past to insure that the
sex of our third child was a boy. And he was. Daniel Robert Ford was born on March 15, 1982 at Los
Robles Hospital in Thousand Oaks, California. I was 31 years old. I have little conscious memory of
Danny as a baby. When he was visiting me in the summer of 1996, he looked at me emotionlessly and
said, "Mom, I don't remember anything about my childhood." He just stated the fact. What was very
apparent to me was that my teenage son had no emotion attached to this statement or even any means to
think this thought through to understand what it all might mean. It seemed like he was merely reporting
it to me and, having done enough of my own healing to realize what this all meant, I was devastated.
Understanding now that my children will not be served by remembering anything about their past until
they are in a safe, supportive environment to do that, I simply acknowledged his reality and recommitted
to doing whatever I could to bring about his freedom.

War Games at Jordan Ranch to Terrorize Kelly and Me

When Kelly was around three years old, we were told to walk down to the "end of the road," which
I knew to be Bob Hope's Jordan Ranch. Once inside the fence we were injected with drugs in the back of
a limo and were told to start walking out onto the ranch. Somehow, all of a sudden, my little daughter
was gone. There was a whole group of men in army fatigues who I later found out were playing war
games. But in the drugged state of mind they put me in, I had no way to know this was just a game. Bob
had a walkie-talkie that he used to radio instructions to the men in army fatigues. He told them what to
do and say to us. I know because the guys would listen to their walkie-talkies while I heard Bob say
directions like, "Ok, rape her now."

These guys were shooting their weapons and throwing hand grenades. As I revivified the memory
I was able to realize that the hand grenades and gunfire were all fake, but the drugs I was subjected to
made everything feel very real and very terrifying. While these men were shooting at me, I was running
for my life, ducking under bushes trying to stay alive so I could find my little girl, and the drugs made it
impossible to think clearly. They told me Kelly's life depended on me finding her quickly. A helicopter
flying overhead landed nearby and I finally found Kelly, naked and huddling near a small scrub bush.

She was very dirty and had cried so much that her little eyes were swollen nearly shut and her face was
covered with dirt and tears all mixed together. She was crying so hard that she was shaking and had
begun the involuntarily sniffling and jerking that infants do when they have cried for a very long time. I
picked her up and took her, as directed, over to the helicopter. Due to the severe trauma, I was unable to
retrieve the rest of this devastating experience. This is the type of activity these men needed to use in
order to guarantee that, under national security, a mother and her baby daughter would never remember
the perverted experiences for which they were being used by Henry Kissinger, Bob Hope and the agenda
of our other high-level controllers. When I was deprogramming and really getting beneath my instilled
trauma-based programs in order to retrieve my experiences, my programmed mother sent me a picture
of Kelly that she had taken. In it, Kelly was crouched down, hiding beneath a bush. Most likely our
controllers had my mother send that picture in an attempt to tap into this traumatic memory in order
to remind me what my odds were, in order to keep me under control.

Trauma Before Use

After I had my children, they always inflicted trauma on me and one or more of my kids (always
with my daughter Kelly) before an assigned rendezvous took place. Those experiences were terrifying
and horrific enough so, that my controllers felt very certain I would never gain access to memory of the
experiences the trauma was meant to cover. The trauma they inflicted on me and then on my children in
front of me, began when they were born.

The following is a vivid example of the kind of programming and torture my family and I had to
endure before I was used with a President, Governor, Senator, entertainer, or whoever else they decided
they wanted to send me in on. I have no way of knowing what the rest of my family might have been
assigned to, in my absence.

This time, we were in Catalina and my husband told the kids that we were going to look at a new
hotel complex on the island. When we arrived, three men in suits told us to go into a room where there
was a single row of chairs lined up against the wall. We were told to sit down in the straight back chairs.
Passively and robotically, we helplessly complied. Kevin our oldest son., who then was nine, was the first
in the lineup; then Craig, me, and Kelly, who was seven, and last, at the far end, our youngest son Danny,
who was three. One of the suited men took a razor blade or something similar and started with Kevin and
slowly and deliberately ran it over the top of his legs, then onto Craig's, then mine, Kelly's and little
Danny's. All of us were bleeding and traumatized, in a daze, physically frozen, staring straight ahead. I
was terrified and panicked, but sat there, helpless to do anything to protect my children, as a result of
years of abuse and mind control programming.

Craig could do nothing to defend the children or me. He couldn't even defend himself. All of us
just sat there like zombies with blood trickling off our burning legs. One suited man informed us, "This is
just the beginning," and they took Danny and threw him up against the wall. With the air knocked out of
him and in obvious pain, he crumpled over and crouched up into a small ball, already, at three years old,
knowing better than to cry out or make a sound. They always did something horrific and if the kids or I
cried out or showed any reaction or retaliation, they would hurt another one of the kids or me even more.
Craig simply took his seat and never moved until he was told to. He was totally and completely
immobilized.

Watching my children get hurt was always the worst; nothing they ever did to me was ever as bad.
Then one of the men took a cotton ball doused with alcohol and dabbed the blood off our legs. It stung
badly.

Then the men in suits took me away, and told my family, "run along and play at the beach. Your
mother will be along in awhile. You will never even miss her, never even be aware she is gone." Without
reaction, Craig stood up and robotically walked out the door with the kids following in like manner.

After my family was gone, they took me to an empty room, ordered me to strip naked and they
began slapping me around until I sank into a shivering, naked ball in the corner of the room. The rest of
the day, all night, and part of the next day, I was left in isolation. Food and water were deliberately
withheld until I was reunited with my family, which could be up to three days. A man in a suit would
come to get me out of isolation and take me to get ready for Reagan or Nixon, or Pete Wilson or
whomever. I was instructed to shower and dress in the clothes they provided. Outfits, complete with
accessories just my size, were left for me.

After the sexual encounter was completed, I was taken back to the room and ordered to put on
my own clothes. Hypnotic commands were given to, "simply walk out and sit down with your family on
the beach. You will not notice any lapse of time, but will resume interacting with your family normally
and naturally." On this occasion, I was told to sit down next to Craig on my beach chair and it was as if I
had never been gone! No one mentioned another word about it. The experiences were supposedly wiped
away from all of our minds as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Each time I was taken, there was similar trauma before they could "safely" use me and be able to
insure that my programming and amnesia would remain locked up tightly. All of this for a Governor's or
President's sexual perversions, or for the fulfillment of the New World Order agenda.

Bob Hope's Escapades

We owned a large family camper that was fully self-contained and we kept it stocked and packed,
completely ready at anytime should we decide that we wanted to get away for a long weekend or week
vacation. We traveled regularly on Thanksgiving holidays and during summers, often driving up
Highway 1, winding up the scenic and beautiful California coastline. We went to Ojai Valley, Big Sur,
Carmel, Monterey, San Francisco, Oxnard, Paso Robles, Santa Barbara, Leo Carrillo State Beach, Emma
Woods State Beach, Pismo Beach, San Luis Obispo, and Napa Valley. At other times we went up into the
High Sierras, to visit Mammoth, Sequoia, Tahoe, Reno, Yosemite National Park, Big Bear, and Crestline.
We also took the children to Six Flags Magic Mountain and, of course, Disneyland.

Bob Hope showed up in many of these locations. It seemed like he was everywhere. I had a
number I called to let him know my vacation plans or he would make the suggestion of where to go.

When we arrived at our destination, I wouldn't consciously know to expect to see him but the part of me
that was programmed and readied for the rendezvous was instructed to walk towards him when he
appeared. Sometimes he would snap his fingers in front of my face or jingle his keys in front of my eyes
to get me to respond. He often liked to meet for sex or information exchange in mountain cabins. He
would say he needed some time away from the hustle and bustle of city life and I was his plaything. He
said I was better than "Jeanie" (the genie) because all she did was come out of a bottle. He said with me
he could rub my magic spot and it was magic-he'd come! He usually spoke in clever little lines and
phrases. I met him aboard yachts, also, even when I thought Craig and I were simply going sailing with
friends. What actually occurred often was a rendezvous with Bob or some leader they needed to get
information to. Sometimes Reagan was brought out on a little ocean excursion and ended up navigating
right to us. I was then transported aboard with him for sex and messages. Sometimes I stayed all night
with him on his transport and then was put back on the sailboat I came on the next day.

Reagan in Mazatlan

I was with President Reagan in Mazatlan, Mexico. In fact, my husband and I acquired a
timeshare, the "Presidential Suite," at the El Cid Hotel, in Mazatlan, where we went in later years.
One evening in the early 80's, while we were 'vacationing' in Mazatlan, Craig and I dressed to go
out and I became panicked because I put my contact lens on inside out and couldn't get it back out. From
my attempts my eye was becoming red and ugly. Craig's father was with us at the time and the two of
them thought I was acting very strangely to be so upset about such a little thing. But, my inner system of
personalities knew that this would not do when I was nearing an assignment with the President.

The next thing I remembered, I was escorted by the Secret Service to the back door of a dark
Mexican Restaurant. I joined Reagan in a booth in the back of the restaurant and waited for him to finish
eating. It wasn't long until we walked out on the beach. We walked hand in hand along the beach with
the Secret Service agents following a short distance behind us. As we were walking on the beach that
night, Reagan seemed upset and anxious, very nervous. He said he was concerned about the 'state of
affairs.' With my pre-programmed sexual orientation, my mind immediately went to the thought of
sexual affairs, but as he continued speaking I realized he was speaking of the affairs of the nation. He
went on to explain that being President was difficult, that there was a lot more to it than I could imagine.

He said he was concerned about the way things were going and was upset with Kissinger about some
things he had handled. He said he was very upset with Henry for taking so many matters into his own
hands. He said he knew a few hours with me would help him snap out of the mood he was in.

I had been given a few key words by the Council to help Reagan "snap out of it" when he got into
one of his slumps. They were very simple phrases like, "everything will be okay," said while I was rubbing
or caressing his forehead over and over. He seemed to respond to that like a kitten going into a purr. I
would generally rub him all over, front and back, before climbing on top of him to satisfy him sexually.

We went into a little cabin-type motel on the beach. It was just the two us with Secret Service
agents all around outside. The little room was done in Mexican design; a red bedspread in Mexican
colors, yellows and blues, and a little pair of maracas sat on a wooden dresser. I had sex with him and
then we left; he did not go to sleep as usual. He hugged me briefly outside the motel and kissed me on
the cheek before he left with the Secret Service agents.

A Secret Service agent took me back to where I was staying with my husband. It was a very quick
encounter; rushed, like Reagan had somewhere else to go.

Craig and I returned to our home in California without conscious knowledge of my "missing time"
or of what he did during my absence.

NASA

When Danny was an infant we went for programming together. He was a year old when his
innerspace mind files were created in order for him to have a wide range of access points, without the
necessity of as much trauma as was necessary back in the days when mine were created. Time had shown
our controllers that trauma itself was one cause for the breakdown in slaves. So Danny was exposed to
their newer technology, from birth, and Danny and I were both heavily programmed and crossprogrammed
together.

I was there with Danny when he was 3 or 4 years old. It seemed like a school field trip, but the
series of events that unfolded were much different. Danny had on long baggy blue print shorts and a light
blue T-shirt. We were sitting with other mothers and children, in the front row of a circular auditorium.
Men in NASA suits, who were dressed like astronauts were all around and one of them came over, lifted
Danny up and put him into a chair. "Like the real astronauts sit in!" the man explained. This chair had
equipment all around it.

Danny smiled so sweetly across the auditorium at me like he was so proud and so happy to be
chosen to sit in the big astronaut chair. There was such anticipated excitement and innocence in his
joyful smile. Soon the man instructed him to lean back so his head was properly aligned to fit into a
silver band and when Danny was in the proper alignment, I watched the NASA official clamp the back of
the silver band to fit snugly around his little forehead. Danny looked up at the NASA official, eyes wide
with innocence and youthful exuberance, and smiled as the man said to Danny, "Hold on for the ride of
your life!"

Another man brought in some sort of visual/optical glasses (virtual reality?) to rest in front of
Danny's eyes and told him to look into the viewer. Then to my horror, the man standing next to Danny
gave a cue to another man and I watched in agony as Danny's little body jolted. They must have been
giving him electroshock and God knows what else. After a time, his little body went limp and he was
unconscious.

I was dying inside, but knew from many past experiences with his older brother and sister that if I
made any attempt to interfere things would only get worse for all of us, especially Danny, so against all
maternal protective instinct, I maintained my composure.

Pretty soon the NASA official waved a smelling salt or something in a cotton ball bound with
gauze, in front of Danny's face. He came to abruptly and they released him from the equipment and then
from the chair. He was sweating profusely around his forehead and under his nose. As the man helped
him out of the chair, Danny looked over at me and several facial expressions quickly washed over him. At
first he looked utterly humiliated and embarrassed, which was soon replaced with a look of utter shame
that spread over his entire face and down his little body.

He could barely walk over to me and when I stood to help him, the NASA man said, "He's a big
boy, he can do this on his own."

"Mommy, I feel sick," my little son said as he hobbled over to me and put his head in my lap. The
men did the same thing to several other children, including another little girl from Danny's preschool,
Born Learners. Soon we were escorted out, put on a shuttle back to the airport and were flown home.
None of this experience was available to my conscious mind until years later when I began the grueling
process of deprogramming. And, to this day, Danny has no memory of this event available to his
conscious mind.

Different parts of me took care of Danny and our controllers assigned other parts to take him to
places for conditioning.

The Highway to Heaven billboard that we had to pass along Kanan Road on the way to Zuma
Beach or Point Mugu dissociated me. Instead of the actual sign, I would experience an internal
experience of, "You are going to another plane of reality, one that only exists in your imagination and
this Highway is your start off point in going there," and, I would go into a programmed mode that my
controllers called the Highway to Heaven zone. There were landmarks (landmines) all over California
that they used in order to keep me in line, "in the right state of mind."

Danny's mind files were filled with data early on and expanded after he was three years old. I
drove him to Point Mugu or we were intercepted at the intersection of Kanan and Agoura Road, and go
in the car with these men. They usually drove a dark colored sedan with tinted windows. Whether I drove
or not, these men took my son from me in the car at Point Mugu in the morning, and returned him back
to me at the car by late afternoon. He would just limply lie on my lap all the way home, and then I put
him to bed in his crib where he slept until the next morning without waking.

Whenever he and I would go to the beach to fly a kite or play in the sand, they always took him
away from me and brought him back later. Once some men on a Coast Guard boat took him from me at
Zuma Beach when he and I were playing. He was around five. They came up close to shore, yet remained
just beyond the crest of the waves. A lifeguard type guy in a red swimsuit that was about 25 years old
took Danny by the hand from the beach and swam out to the boat with him. Then they took off with my
son, while I stayed on the beach waiting, just sitting all alone, zombie-like until they returned my son. I
helped Danny walk back to our brown station wagon and we went home.

Henry Kissinger filled Danny with high-level information, intended to span many years and to be
delivered whenever necessary at specific future dates to large crowds of people. Danny had historical
files put in, as did I.

At Born Learners Preschool at three to four years of age, Danny started special computer classes
that kept him at school long hours, sometimes into the evening. When I asked him if he wanted to stop
he always said he loved it, as did his best friend Justin. I believe programmers do more of the training via
computer screen now, often using virtual reality. After computer class, I took the two of them to
Monarch's Gymnastics, the same gymnastics school his older brother and sister went to for lessons. I
usually waited in the car or ran errands while they were there and I was always so exhausted I could
hardly stay awake. I had usually been to therapy abreacting the horrors of my own childhood and hurried
home from Westwood to pick up Danny and Justin from preschool, and later on Danny from
Kindergarten. I didn't like Mike, the man who ran the gymnastics center. He had a very bad temper and
was often emotionally out of control. Kevin, Kelly and Danny all went to Monarch's Gymnastics in
conjunction with the Montessori preschools.

I thought I would not be able to bear the pain and grief when I began remembering scenarios of
the ways in which I had been programmed to be a part of my children's preschool mind control
experiences. This is information I would prefer to withhold because it goes against everything I believe
in, but in order for people to understand how this system works, it is necessary for me to share the
following. Keep in mind that this scenario could have happened to any three of my children and indeed it
did. But once again, I will use an experience I remembered about Danny because, for whatever reason, I
have more memory retrieved about him.

This event occurred in Danny's preschool. On occasion, I helped out in the class. I remembered
standing with Danny's preschool teachers who were instructing the children in a game where they all had
to take their clothes off, step onto a colored circle and then take turns doing sexual acts to the child next
to them. The teachers were laughing and clapping and everything seemed surreal, just like it always did
when programmed events of horror occurred. As the game progressed, with music playing in the
background, the children looked progressively more stunned. They were told to walk in a circle and stop
on a color. If they didn't do what they were told, the teacher yanked them out of the circle by the arm and
yelled at them. I couldn't tell what she said but it scared the child into compliance. The games always
took place at the same time in the mornings and were centered around colors, music, body movement
and hand signals. Hand signals were taught to the children this way and put to music for reinforcement.

There was a VCR off to the side of the classroom where an individual child was placed to watch a
special pre-selected tape. The child was taken out of the circle, sat in front of the VCR and told to focus
on the movie. This way each child got the individual training they were supposed to have according to
what their curriculum planners felt were their strengths and career aptitudes. All of the special private
preschools my children went to took this approach. And, ritual trauma and sexual perversion was often
the way we were programmed to begin with the children.

Danny completed computer classes in preschool before he was four years old. During my
deprogramming process, I was horrified when I remembered that I continually read him the story of
Danny and the Dinosaur. As I re-read the story years later, I found a phrase in the book, which states,
"there's no place to run, no place to hide. " And here again was another example of how 1, as his
programmed parent, was used to keep my own son's programming locked tightly in place, reinforcing
the programs that were used to keep the parts of his mind that were compartmentalized for our
controller's use, separate from his conscious everyday awareness. And consciously, neither of us had any
idea that any of this was occurring.

Henry Kissinger has been Danny's main man. He was the one calling the shots and organized the
creation of Danny's mind files for NASA/military use. Danny was, and may still be, scheduled for a major
position within NASA one day, following in the footsteps of his grandfather Ford and Uncle Lyle Curran.
They have him scheduled to become a scientist or something of that nature. I overheard Henry talking to
someone about it.

Danny has very specific programming themes that center around all the planets - Jupiter, Mars,
Venus, Pluto, Saturn, etc., and I was programmed to tell him often before he went to sleep, "I love you to
the moon and much, much, much, much, more than that. A thousand times more than that. A trillion
times more than that," and on and on until we got to the highest number beyond infinity, and Danny
knew that number. For some reason I can't remember it. I never could. Then, he would go to sleep.

Danny and Kelly both had those neon, glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on their ceilings and so
did 1. Danny has tons of high tech information in his brain. I saw him demonstrated at Point Mugu when
they put him in front of a group to demonstrate his capabilities. Henry took Danny to different locations
to 'display the technology,' showing that a five year old could appear to be genius level, "a computer
whiz." He had mega memory, displaying the intelligence level of what they termed a "Junior College
Student." Danny was seen as having the intelligence of the future and they said he would blossom in high
school, whatever that meant. They said that, by then, Danny would be fully functional and used by them
extensively in international work. Henry talked a lot about Danny and I remember Danny holding onto
Henry's leg one time when he was demonstrating Danny in front of a whole group of people. Despite the
programming, Danny remained very shy until he was 5 years old.

Danny was also traumatized at Disneyland year after year. The Matterhorn ride was one they used
before they took him away from me at Disneyland for other programming.

There was further programming done at Edwards Air Force Base. Craig took us all there as a
family in our camper and we stayed overnight and were programmed the next morning. Two men in
white uniforms came to get Danny and me from the camper and compliantly and mindlessly we went
with them. Kelly, in her little strawberry blouse, was crying that she didn't want Danny to go and Craig
held her and spanked her leg to stop her crying. The men took us through glass doors and we were
escorted once again to the big chair, where the nightmare started all over. We sat side by side in the big
heavy, metal chair while we looked into the large goggles that were placed in front of our faces. Before
they began, we were injected with a drug. Earphones played music at times, but mostly sound effects,
while they told us we were 'one' and the solar system that we saw through our eyes would now exist in
the innermost regions of our mind. There was a beautiful visual of the stars and planets and the whole
universe. They told us that we each had a system, but that we also had the other half of the other person's
system much like those friendship bracelets that are separated and when they come together they are
whole. Afterwards, Danny's eyes seemed to be moving all over the place at once and not together. Even
in my drugged state I was terrified for my child. Looking at what his eyes were doing was scary.

Afterwards, they escorted us out and I helped my little boy into the camper and laid him up on the top
bed so he could sleep. He lay backwards on the bed and didn't move, totally out of it for the rest of the
day. I walked around outside in this big white gravel parking lot with the other kids in a total zombie-like
state. I felt totally drugged out of my mind and I fell asleep sitting up outside. When I woke up, I ran
frantically into the camper to check on Danny. I held him and loved him. He looked to me like he was
going to die. I said, "I love you Danny, is there anything I can do for you?" He was sucking his thumb by
then and without any words, shook his head no. So I just held him.

Kelly was taken to military bases in Ventura, Oxnard, Point Mugu, and Edwards Air Force Base,
but Danny went mostly to Point Mugu. The whole family went to Edwards Air Force Base. Sometimes
from Point Mugu, they would helicopter Danny away and I never knew where they took him. Parts of
Danny were programmed very early on to play the perfect game of chess, in order to take up where I left
off in deciphering and delivering cryptic messages.

Catalina Island Excursions

One or two weeks a year were set aside for a planned vacation. Extended weekend excursions were
commonplace, often planned at the last minute. But, our August week on Catalina Island, 26 miles off
the California coast, was a standing vacation for years. Craig and I went there almost every year from
1971 until I left California in 1991; nearly 20 years. My children still go there with their father and, now
that they are older, they have gone independently.

I was used on Catalina Island, for sexual rendezvous with Reagan and/or sometimes other public
officials or entertainers. I was programmed to have sex with Reagan at the Wrigley Mansion, the Zane
Grey and other hotels on the island. It seems Reagan was usually on the island anonymously; for security
purposes, no one was to know he was there.

While I was busy carrying out my duties, I had no idea what my children and husband were up to.
It seems likely that there was some reason they had us all there together.

We're Paying Taxes For What?!

And, I am sure that you the reader were unaware that your hard earned tax dollars were being
spent on security, airflight, and high tech programming in order that Presidents and leaders could be
extramaritally satisfied sexually, and that messages fueling the success and implementation of the New
World Order could be sent and returned via a national security mind-controlled asset. Not to mention
the salary of politicians and NSA people like Henry Kissinger who spent countless hours strategizing
agendas to carry out their personal plans. I can only imagine the cost to privately helicopter, task a team
of Secret Service agents, coiffure, and ready a mindcontrolled operative and then pay a limo to deliver
her to her assignment. A few years ago my daughter was transported via ambulance after one of her
many suicide attempts, as she carried out her program command to kill herself if she began to
remember. That bill alone was unfathomable.

"...but you shall cry out for pain of heart, and shall wail for anguish of spirit." -- Isaiah 65:14