Letter to County Sheriffs
Last edit: 07-05-2021
Hate Crime Scene Details
- Hate Crime Scene
- Repressed Memories
- Local Ramifications
- Letter to Sheriffs
- Cloud Index
- Open Letter
- Trip Log
I freely represent myself and have no representative, or attorney to represent me. I've confessed everything I can think of and written on the subject of a Hate Crime Scene that I encountered during October of 1998 to try to determine what would motivate someone to desecrate a human being along a road I was told to drive. I’ve also kept a timeline as I was advised by law enforcement personnel during 2011 and trained by a law firm in California to keep records. Not only of the circumstances I live following the encounter, but also circumstances prior to the encounter that might’ve been relevant to the commission of the crime. So after I arrived and found a place to stay, I wrote out a handwritten record of the receipts I had at the time, and I’ve taken pictures of the receipts that remain in my keeping, though I can’t vouch for their reliability because I was forced to store my things for long periods of time.
I keep my important papers with me at all times, but sometimes, some of my paperwork has been left in storage facilities that I can’t vouch for as well, and recently, I was robbed of my important papers, so I now keep some of them in a Safety Deposit box, along with many terabytes of digital media that was compromised while I plied my trade. And I map crimes, complaints, all the places I’ve lived and other relevant information when I can.
Because I made complaints about a Lewd act to healthcare professionals before I left, and was concerned about unreliable commitments that resulted, I suspected my daughter was dealing with another instance of the problem I tried to solve when I was a child by evaluating a potential threat and its capacity to do harm. And, I filed a lawsuit to address the problem formally, but was homeless, and poorly prepared to do so. Unfortunately, it was deemed frivolous by a Judge in 2001.
I wasn't welcome to discuss reports I made as a youth, and reports I made to health care professionals didn’t remain confidential. So, while I was well armed with the facts about myself, I didn’t realize how violent things would become. I blacked out offending display’s and the reports my friends made were impossible to confront directly (I had difficulty remembering what happened when I was offended).
I took a nap and did laundry after driving all night (possibly in Santa Rosa or Las Vegas New Mexico) and returned to the route I drove in on by mistake after eating a fast food breakfast. It may have been an hour or two along the North Easterly route (on HWY 54), before realizing that I was in Texas, so I turned around, and returned to the route my Mother’s boyfriend Rick (a Truck Driver by profession) told me to drive along the foothills. After I was back on the route I was told to drive (which I believe was HWY 25, along the foothills near Canyon de Chile) I encountered the remains of a pleural cavity and intestines on the west side of the road (I was driving North by that time). I videotaped the evidence, which included a blue square torn out of a hospital gown and put the cloth in the trunk.
But shortly later, I encountered a three pole ranch gate where a body was hung which I thought must’ve been where the eviscerated plural tissue and entrails came from. And it was made of wood as I recall, and on HWY 25 unless I’m entirely mistaken (there is a similar gate made of steel near Tucumcari Texas), but the terrain looks much more familiar on HWY 25 than HWY 54 which is flat and barren.
I crossed the Rio Grande Gorge bridge shortly after encountering the remains but regretted not pulling over or turning back to check the status of the hanging body more carefully. I was afraid, and without a phone. The circumstances seemed very dangerous to me, and I had an opportunity to get the evidence I already had to the police in Minneapolis, which is where I believed the motivation for the crime really was. The wind was howling so badly that it buffeted the car, and dark clouds were descending on the horizon as well, and I doubt that those circumstances could be reproduced over a shallow watershed in Texas without a storm though I’ve considered that possibility in previous drafts here.
None of the remains were found on Interstate 40 as far as I know, unless it was on a part of old HWY 66, which runs alongside in parts, and I was driving a route along the foothills that I was told to drive to avoid bad weather, but at this time it’s hard for me to remember the span of time or exact distance between these specific points of interest. After finding the lungs alongside the road (which I videotaped and gave to the Minneapolis Homicide Detectives Room 8 City Hall during October 1998 - Please see: mapped incidents here. I can’t say if it was a mile or two, or an hour or two before I found the rest of the remains - perhaps because I was already shook up.
None of the remains were found on Interstate 40 as far as I know, unless it was on a part of old HWY 66, which runs alongside in parts, and I was driving a route along the foothills that I was told to drive to avoid bad weather, but at this time it’s hard for me to remember the span of time or exact distance between these specific points of interest. After finding the lungs alongside the road (which I videotaped and gave to the Minneapolis Homicide Detectives Room 8 City Hall during October 1998 - Please see also:list of complaints. I can’t say if it was a mile or two, or an hour or two before I found the rest of the remains - perhaps because I was already shook up.
I believed the Highway where I found the remains was a two lane road and I couldn’t find the three pole ranch gate on that route (by scanning the roadway with Google Maps), I stopped to videotape the remains in question (the plural tissue), by pulling over to the right side of the road, and walking to the left - where the remains were placed, so it’s not likely to have been a divided highway, which is why I studied the road to Texas on HWY 54 more carefully before forming this conclusion.
The rest of the body was hanging from the three pole ranch gate further down the road, and I know I didn’t do anything other than drive from the first encounter to the second. I did not stop between locations, or turn around, I’ve included my receipts with dates and times in a travel log, but it’s not possible for me to determine exactly when the handwritten receipts were processed. It’s possible that more than one victim was used to create the scene, but it was my assumption that the lungs were taken from the remains I found further down the road because s/he dangled lightly, and spun easily in the wind. Because I was already afraid I drove ahead to get the evidence to the police.
I believed the crime was motivated by an effort to cover-up the activities my daughter was reporting to me over the phone, and that crimes preceding my daughters report, such as those I reported to healthcare workers about my childhood motivated my Mother’s boyfriend to confront me in my effort to prove what happened in Minnesota. By describing and demonstrating what we were living with in Minnesota to my adopted family in California, they were challenged to deal with new witnesses that I believed were better able to confront the problem we grew up with than we were. We needed evidence. Many who report their parents without evidence are considered crazy. There's no other way for us to accomplish the task. And, because we couldn’t remember what happened after we were offended, a videographer suggested that I capture a reaction shot, to find out what I was unable to determine about myself. Those of us in recovery are required to find out what we’ve done wrong to cause the problems we lived with.
My daughter’s mother called me by telephone in California while my mother was there to visit me to try to make arrangements to meet my mother. It was during that call, and subsequent talks that described her involvement with someone in her home in the Twin City Metro Area. She described the activity in a positive way on the first occasion, but referred to the phone as ‘hot’ when I spoke to her again, suggesting that though she didn’t mind her encounter she wasn’t capable of being open about it.
Because I couldn't accomplish anything by phone, I believe someone acted rashly to prevent me from corrections that may have had more to do with me than my daughter. Interrogations for example intended to find out more about my behavior by involving my daughter in similar activities, so I resigned my positions before leaving, and it was not realistic for me to turn back.
The plural tissue I found was on a North Easterly passage from a small town while making a sweeping left turn on the southeastern side of the foothills. I did laundry during the morning after driving all night from Prescott Arizona, and drove from California a few days before, but the road I was told to drive went through the foothills of the mountains in New Mexico near Canyon de Chelly, not the plains of Texas. The remains hanging by the neck on the left hand side of the road were on a three pole wooden ranch gate - perhaps 20 minutes, or as much as an hour or so later, and that road led to a passage over a howling windswept gorge as dark clouds were descending on the horizon.
"When names happen to speak of even more challenging problems that we can address during a crisis, or in places that don't allow us to share by means that might be obstructed while reporting, we can and do suffer the consequences of a desecration needing so much more."