Let’s Start Over…

While I still work on transferring the trial videos in a suitable format, it dawned on me that I need to redo some posts. Rather than change the posts already collecting virtual dust on these ether shelves, I decided to simply start over. Telling a story that spans twenty-seven years, three states, five counties and connects all major industries/institutions, is not a simple task. Laying out the facts and evidence of a case that ties together government corruption, truth about child services, child trafficking rings, ritual abuse and how it blends with our common, every day lives is no small task..especially when it comes to presenting such things to a mass of folks that outright reject any notion of these could be true. For many years I’ve toyed with writing a book on it all. For over two decades I did all due diligence to bring these atrocities to the attention of “officials” and “investigators”, et al. The only thing all that accomplished was to bring more pain in various forms. As much as I kept thinking I was done with all this–trying to expose, inform, etc–God obviously has other plans. Every time I try to hang it up something more pops up, urging me to yet again open my mouth and holler. So, let’s start over…from the beginning. Let’s start over and see if this time we can break through the bullshit.

Young, naive and relatively stupid

Back in 1997 I was incredibly naive and fairly young. I was one of those people that, despite everything I had already endured with a 7 year abusive marriage, always tried to “see the good in people.” That, in retrospect, set me up for ultimate stupidity. Of course, later I learned that Jesus said only God the Father in Heaven is good. Period. (Luke 18:18) So, there I was a newly single mom in a family whose only purpose with me was fodder for their regular gossip rallies. My one “sister” was particularly adamant to destroy any peace and goodness in my life. Between her and my mother, my kids were merely a means to their wicked ends. Interestingly, these are the two in my “family” that I put the most trust in over the early years. Again, young, naive and relatively stupid.

All that simply to help set the stage, put you “in my shoes”, so to speak, as much as possible and prepare you for what came next. One fine day in April of 1997 the stresses of my mother’s constant games and my sister’s never-ending schemes finally got to me. I spent the majority of that one day in the hospital. It was a Thursday. I was instructed by the doc to “go home with a friend and rest for the weekend.” I sat right next to my mother while she assured the doc my kids would be fine with her. We lived with her at that time anyway, she reasoned. She and I arranged with the doc that I would call her that Sunday to let her know when I’d be home. She appeared so “concerned” and “caring” she actually seemed convincing. Little did I know at that time, my sister (Annette) was already in contact with my ex, Manuel. In fact, it was Manuel that my mom was on the phone with the night before, as she argued with me to speak with him.

Mind you, these two both witnessed the abuse my kids and I endured at Manuel’s hand.

In front of that doc, my mother wrote down my pager number and every contact number my friend had. As instructed, I went to my friend’s house for the weekend. When I called Sunday, she told me my kids were out playing. When I called again…and again…and again…she did not answer. All day Monday I could not reach her but once. Again, she said my kids were out playing. Unbeknownst to me, my kids were already out of state with Manuel and his then girlfriend, Joni.

At my friend’s house I received a phone call later that same Monday, in the evening. Ironically, my friend Kelli from Kentucky called my mom’s house to talk with me. My mom gave her the number to where I was staying and filled her in (gossiped) on the latest. My mom and Kelli never had any sort of relationship. My mother just thrived on gossip. Kelli greeted me with, “Why the hell are your kids in Kentucky with Manuel? And what the hell is going on with you?”

That was my wake up to the fact that the folks I trusted were actually lying, two-faced bastards. That was my initial training moment to trust only in Christ alone. Ever since that moment the list of lying, two-faced bastards has only grown. Also has my trust in Christ alone.

No one, but God

After calling my mom repeatedly to no avail again, I phoned the local police. They were no help at all. I explained that the divorce was recently finalized (March), I had full custody and my ex did not even have visitation scheduled yet by the court. I explained that my mother was watching my kids for the weekend, I hadn’t been able to get a hold of her, but found out my kids were in KY with my ex who has a history of violence. Their response? “Well, he is their father, isn’t he?”

Since I had no idea where in KY my kids were at that time, I was at a loss. I had been a praying woman for a long time prior to this, but it was in this mess I finally learned to grow. A couple days later I picked up my mail at my mother’s house. In that, I received a motion in the Portage County (OH) Court for change of custody, claiming I had abandoned my kids. See, what Stow PD did not tell me was that Friday (mind you, the day after my mom assured the doc my kids were fine with her), Annette had gone to the police station with Manuel and my kids. She made a report that I supposedly “went to get diapers…and never came home.” Never mind that none of my kids were in diapers at that time. Both her and my mom lied, saying that they had no idea where I was or how to get a hold of me.

Remember? My mom wrote down all numbers–of both me and my friend. And that’s on top of my pager number scrawled on a notepad hanging on her fridge forever. Plus, recall, it was my mom that told Kelli how to get a hold of me.

So, there existed this police report that I had no idea of for years, but apparently gave grounds for change of custody. Yet, the idiots filing the motion told me two things: One, this was planned ahead and ready to go, to be filed so soon. Two, it gave me the address to where my kids were taken. But, you guessed it. Those authorities were no help either.

So I prayed. Incessantly. For three long, grueling weeks. During this time I received phone calls at my friend’s house (where I remained for obvious reasons) and at my workplace, from Cindy (Joni’s mother) and Manuel. Often I would hear my kids in the background, being smacked and crying out for me. These two were trying to get me to move down there to “take care of all the kids.” They said if I did “as told” then I could get my kids back. I “had to earn them back.” Periodically, I’d see Manuel pop up at my work or other places to harass. There were others as well who were obviously watching me, but I did not know them.

Another time I received a call from that place in KY was from my oldest little girl, Nina. At that time she was 7 years old. This was all a couple months before her 8th birthday. She said she returned from school to find her toddler sister (Carmen) in the house by herself. There was a lot she shared in a short period of time, in between crying and expressing fear, but one thing was most significant. She urged me to not even think of moving down there. She told me “they’re doing lots of crazy stuff with all us kids.” Then she said, “Mom, I miss you so bad, but do not come down here. Please! They will kill you. I will take care of Felip and Carmen. But please do not come down here.” and told me about suspicious notes she found on Cindy’s desk. I assured her I was doing everything to find and rescue them. Then the line went dead.

The resilience of children is amazing.

During this time also my mother packed up literally every single thing that belonged to my children, including their pup, and sent it off with Manuel to KY. Their puppy never made it home. There were three stories about what happened to that pup, but only one was consistent and made sense. We’ll talk about that another time.

Like Daniel, I prayed many times a day, lengthy, heartrending prayers. Often, I did not even know what to say, but I experienced what the Bible tells us about how the Holy Spirit intercedes for us (Romans 8:26). Around May 8th (or 9th?) was to be the hearing for that motion they filed. Just before that, God caused such a reviling to arise between Cindy and Manuel that he and Joni took off with my kids back to Ohio.

No one but God helped bring my kids home.

Skip ahead

Let’s skip ahead a bit. There is so much more in even that short period of time, but I am trying to get to the main point of this post. Gosh…maybe I ought to write that book? Anyway…

With my kids home, I had to return to my mother’s house for a short time. She had already farmed them out. Well, two of them. Carmen was with my other “sister”, who had just moved down from New York. My son, Felip, was with my aunt and uncle. At least that is what I was told. After driving around and banging on doors, I found they had sent him to stay with my cousin, Denise. She was already at work to try to keep him. And, of course, the gossip was spread out to them as well. I didn’t bother to indulge them. I just retrieved my kids and returned to my mother’s house.

Though my youngest was already out of diapers prior to this, she came home wearing them. She had a relentless throat infection and open sores diaper “rash” that was unbearable. But we were together again. We could finally begin healing from all this, on top of the past years. Little did I realize then the plan God laid out for us–to use all this for His good and holy purposes. Though I had many hints along the way, I did not fully understand until much later. All I was concerned about was protecting my kids and, in that, seeking the Lord to grow and heal.

From the first time I laid Carmen down to change her diaper, she would stiffen her entire body and scream as if in horror of something only she could see. No amount of consoling her worked. Even after the rash and sores healed she would do this. But by this time I was in the mind to pray about literally everything. Everything, no matter how seemingly “little”. At one point a picture came to mind. It was of me bending over my baby to change her. In the next instant, another picture came to mind. Joni bending over Carmen. In each picture, our long hair came down around our faces. That hit me strange. Joni normally had medium brown, short hair. But when I saw her over this time period, her hair was almost as long as mine and lightened. Almost the same color as mine, medium blonde. After that, I always made sure my hair was pulled back tight when I changed Carmen’s diaper. It worked. She began to calm.

That was my first warning sign that something awful went on down there at that Kentucky farm. Still, in my naivety, I assumed it was the usual forms of abuse. Stuff I already knew Manuel and the rest of them were in the habit of. Never in my life did I imagine… Nor could I have imagined… all that really went on.

Screaming flags

Sure, there were lots of flags even in just those first few days and weeks. My once wildly creative, expressive and active children were suddenly sullen, ever careful and obviously bottled up. They would use only black and red crayons or markers and would scribble red all over any face the drew. Carmen was terrified of dolls. The same dolls she used to play with joyfully. Felip and Carmen were extra clingy, while Nina would alternate between clingy and violent. Several times I found her panties hidden in the closet with blood stains on them. She got violent with me any time I tried to calmly talk with her about it. This and more was screaming at me daily, but the main thing that truly smacked me in my face was a picture my Nina drew that late May.

After being back together merely a couple weeks, this one bit of information was the start of rocking the world I thought we lived in. Nina was quite intently focused on her drawing at my mother’s kitchen table that afternoon. As I walked by, I looked over her shoulder. What I saw startled my reality to the point I have never been the same since.

Keep in mind, all along I was praying for God’s guidance, His healing and to help me understand two main things: One, what it was my kids endured down there (KY). Two, how to guide them His way, by His Grace, to Him, that they may be healed and strengthened. That, no matter what it was, they would know Him.

I need to stop here and ask you all to put yourself in my shoes for a moment. All that I have explained here, on top of the fact that I truly did not believe satanic cults and all that garbage really existed here in the US. (I’m telling ya! I was really gullible back in the day!) So, if you were me and saw your barely eight year old girl almost zoned out, intently focused on drawing…and saw this (below), what would you think?

This is the original drawing, on the original paper, only enlarged a bit for clarity. Late May 1997.

My precious little girl became so violent with me when I tried to have a look at her drawing. You can see the original paper here is crumpled and torn. She fought me to get it back. To say I was stunned is definitely a severe understatement. Between the drawing and her behavior, I was completely at a loss in my own faculties. To plead before the LORD was (and still is) my only true hope.

The start

Although there are many points one can consider as “the start of things”, this, I must say, was THE starting point. This revelation began to open up an entire world that, unbeknownst to me then, exists alongside the one most folks believe we live in. In fact, that world is reality. But more than that, the combination of “family” wickedness and the revelation of that world caused me to dive in, head first and full speed, to my Bible. All this shoved me ever deeper into the arms of my Savior and Lord, Christ Jesus, and to lead my children in the same.

This growth caused lots of people to turn away and turn on me. It still does to this day. But better than all that, growing to know and trust the Lord God Almighty and His sovereign hand over all things brought and sustained a peace and healing that most folks do not believe exists. In that, my mother even turned around from her wickedness. Shortly before she died (2011), she looked at me with tears and spontaneously said to me,

“Please forgive me for what we did to you and your kids.”

Mom, 2/2011

The LORD and God, Jehovah Shalom, is beyond amazing, isn’t He?

So, we’ll leave this story right here for now. Check back in a few days, because I think I’m finally on a roll 😉

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