14 years as an AWACS Radar Maintenance Specialist & Supervisor, USAF.
AWACS on Drug watch.
     16 months with no drug intercepts (shop rumors say the 965th was the "Drug Squadron").
     AWACS flight schedule (current one) found on a crashed CIA drug transport in Nicaragua.
AFETS/UN training exercises over USA
Canadian & German flight crew members, other countries too.
.
Gulf War set up and executed.
Builderbergs choose Klinton (June 91)
Unrecorded vaccinations (July 91)
    A transport's entire Mission was canceled after one soldier refused a vaccination, because they weren't being recorded in anyone's shot records (he said "I worked in vaccinations, what the hell are you trying to pull over on us, I don't care if you court martial me, I'm reporting this, who is your commander!"), and he stomped out pulling his shirt back on.   I never saw or heard of him again.   All vaccinations stopped and we were immediately dismissed to our regular duty sections.
    Visits with local Arabs in Riyadh (Aug. - Oct. 91)
    Perpetual diarrhea, almost (Sept. - Dec. 91)
    New Paradigms (1992, the "changing of the sea")
    Ham Packet writer (KB5TON/Constitutional Guardian)
    Ruby Ridge (I felt, something is seriously not right)
    Klinton's inaugural address(gays in the military), IE: 'bend over general, let me feel your pain' (Jan. 93)
    Davidians were executed while the situation was entirely stable (Apr. 1993)
    Blatant attempts at tyranny (bill after bill, with obvious lies and slander)
    Two American Black Hawks shot down over Iraq, by us (Nov. 93)
U.S. protects Iraqi Kurds, but provides air surveillance while the Turks chemical bomb their own Kurds, and then, kill the Americans (operating the blackhawk helicopters) under UN command, to keep the UN envoy (that's being transported) from visiting a freshly chemical-bombed Kurdish village.
    Lt. Wong becomes the Black Hawk shootdown scapegoat (Dec.93 - July 94)

         3 1/2 minutes of erased Blackhawk shootdown data on the AWACS mission tapes, that no one was to mention (protecting the General? F-15 pilot)
I do a leave inquiry, I wanted to videotape a planned Sept. 19th, 94 militia demonstration in DC (July 24, 94)
     I was ordered to submit to questioning without any witnesses, (the OSI ordered my Squadron security officer to order my 1st Sergeant to order me to submit to questioning without any witnesses), I did & was found to have no ties to any "subversive elements".
     (July 28, 94)  My son is born, later that morning, at 11am I'm Incarcerated, after refusing to answer trick questions concerning immoral thoughts, etc...
I was strapped in an ambulance & transported to the Shepherd AFB, Hospital's psychiatric ward.
     The evaluation (Aug. 18, 94) determined "nothing is wrong with you, your free to return to duty, we'll contact your squadron to come pick you up."
     My Wing Commander refused (Aug. 21, 94).   They want to transfer my assignment to the hospital squadron at Shepherd.   I exercised my right to refuse an assignment (I already had Early Retirement orders for next June 1995)
The Deal:
     I receive 70% disability "if" (Sept. 23, 94)
If I sign papers agreeing that I have "Dellusion Disorder:  due to unusual political beliefs",   I said, "that's not true, it would be fraudulent, I can't sign that."
     Two more months incarceration for refusing to partake in fraud (Sept.-Oct. 94).
They gave & showed me an MRI of my head? they also x-rayed my spine, but never showed them to me, but gave me papers to sign saying I had seen them.
I signed before reading it, like a dummy, thinking it was the MRI images, but later when reading it carefully, I found it referred to my spinal X-rays.
     Leavenworth option (Oct. 23, 94),   someone on staff that I had befriended told me "they're starting papers to transfer you to Leavenworth."
Stunned, I went right down, signed the fraudulent paperwork, and was free to return to my Squadron for separation processing (I got out of there).
    Free - not! at 30% disability (Jan. 5, 95)   the disability had been reduced to 30%, and the Air Force refused to acknowledge that I had a dissolved spinal disk (completely gone).   I was also placed on TDRL (temporary disability retirement list, i.e.: they occasionally would send orders for me to report back for a check up)
    Oklahoma county citizen's militia, as one of eleven founding officers (Jan. 26, 95)
Perplexing premonition in the Murrah Federal Building (Apr. 12, 1995, 9:03am)
        The two in the elevator (9:06am).
            I had just finished an appointment at the Veteran's Administration, was leaving and in the hallway suddenly felt like I was walking over a large chasm, or where there would soon be one.   Startled, I walked back and forth studying this emotional experience.   I was in the ninth floor hallway, far from any windows, but the feelings were intense and related to a specific unseen boundryline about 15ft from the elevators.   I also looked out the large windows beside the elevaters, but no fear of heights came from them.   I also felt the Judicial Building next door would be effected.   After looking through a large lens displayed there, I took an elevator down.   As the elevator passed the fifth floor, I could here two people talking about some bombs.   This also surprised me, for I felt they were a couple floors below me yet.   As the elevator slowed at the third floor, the two stopped talking just before the doors opened.   When the elevator doors did open, two men, one about 6ft 2in. & age 24? (I'll call him blondie)and the other about 5ft. 4in. age 45? (Scruff), stepped into the elevator, looking at each other, remained silent until getting off at the first floor.   I stepped off ahead of them, then acted as if i'd forgotten something, then got back on.  Hesitating as if trying to decide what to do next, I listened to their continuing conversation in the lobby.   Blondie said "I thought we were going out this way."   Scruff replied, "I'll use the concourse."   Blondie then asked,"when do we do it?"   Scruff replied,"We'll talk next week, you go out that way" then turned and walked swiftly towards the concourse exit.   Blondie watched him for a few seconds then walked towards the west exit.
    The call of Jonah, or ending up as *?* (McVeigh later did) (9:08am).
I then stepped back out of the elevator, and noticed another strong feeling.   Like I should walk into the social security office and speak aloud to all working there "Get right with your maker for you never know when something very bad might happen, something like a bombing for example."   I then started praying, Lord God, should I do the same as yelling hijacking in an airport?   They'd lock me up, then declare the Air Force's assessment of me to be accurate.   The feeling then related that if I didn't, and something did happen, then the blood of the harmed would be on my hands.   I replied, Holy Lord, If this is you, how can I be sure, for  Truth is that which is verifiable through two or more reliable means.   How can I possibly verify this?    So I exited the front of the building, noticing that right next to the flower beds would be a lethal place for a truck bomb to park.   I jay-walked across the road to my pickup truck parked nearby, pondering these experiences.
    The Militia meeting Intel report (Apr. 13, 95).
A fellow founding officer, also the OKC Chief of Safety, let us know that intelligence from other militias told of a joint FBI & ATF sting operation in progress in central Kansas & Oklahoma.   Also that the OKC emergency services were put on notice by the authorities of a possible terrorist incident occurring in OKC on April 19, 1995.   We concluded there were to many parks, schools, McDonalds's and Government buildings for us to even begin to try and watch over.  We then decided to try to have lunch with our state legislators at 11am on monday, the 19th.
    Joint Chiefs courier was killed when a military transport blew up over Alexander City, Alabama, while en route to Wash. DC (April 17, 95).
Three members of the Pentagon's Joint Chiefs of Staff where attempting to deliver the results of, a one and a half  year Defense Intelligence Agency study of intelligence leaks to hostile foreign elements.   The study concluded that Vince Foster had been a personal attach' for the White House, and on his last trip to Europe had delivered to east block contacts in Geneva and Mossad contacts in Telavive, critically secret information about America's missile defense system, including nuclear targeting data and launch codes.   The Generals were taking these study results to the Justice Department in D.C. as evidence for charges of Treason against the White House occupants and its staff.  It looks like more names ended up being added to Klinton's suicided casualty list.
    Amerikan Reistag! (Murrah Building bombed) (9:02am, Apr. 19, 95).
        Silenced screams, a rude awakening.
            After being up until 4am writing packet messages for the Ham radio BBS network, I was awaked with a vivid dream of dozens of voices suddenly crying out together, then being altogether suddenly silenced.
    Record all, a scanner catches Oklahoma State Bomb Squad on the third floor saying, "my God, this is a military bomb!"
     FBI visits me, their insult, & my returned suggestion that they check Mena or Ferndale, Arkansas for a recent CIA flight out of country.
The Big Militia meeting where 2/3 of those present are Government agents (May 95).
     The restructured militia core.
          Traitors in diverse places, our intelligence officer turned out to be a Government paid "provocateur".
     The Militia dissolves to closed cells, I'm not a native Oklahoman and am left standing alone, excluded from the recently "closed cells" because, no one knows me from youth.
    Working as a satellite TV installer.
        From Baton Rouge and Kansas City to Killeen and Carson City (Mar. 95 - Dec.  95).
          1/3 of the people see through the deception (there is hope after all).
    Government contractor employee ( Dec. 95 - mar 96).
The company entered a bid to maintain Janet Reno's Rapid Response Forces communications network, and my views became a liability.   The corporate Hoar, me?, not any more.   I was dismissed, thank you Jesus!
     Four days in Oklahoma county solitary confinement, for refusing to register my private property, the pickup truck (Apr 19, 96).
        I was kidnaped and my pickup stolen, by police for refusing to give it to the state (register it when it was used only for private purposes).
     Summer of lawn work (Apr. 96 - Sept. 96).
        Bankruptcy & foreclosure (May 96 & Aug. 96).
Out of the city, the family separation (Oct. 96).
    Trial by ice & bitter wind, with no job, no money or gas, and not wanting charity (Nov. 96).
I sell $1,000 of Ham radio gear for $80 (fair trade? or heartless Capitalism).
    RV Park maintenance hand (Dec. 96 - Feb. 97).
        The chef who's buddy (Terry Yeakey) was killed, for knowing too much.
        The visit with a servant of Yahweh (Feb. 97).
    Working as a motel desk night clerk (Jan. 97 - June 97).
        The gambler, Samuel J. Kendel II, stays at the motel (May 97).
I must choose, go to the Republic of Texas siege, or my daughter's birthday & try to repair my family? (May 29, 1997).
     Flower gardening, swimming, & primitive bows & arrows with my children.
I'm not welcomed by my wife, but tolerated for a while (June 97).
    3 weeks with some Sabbaticals in Colorado (July 97).
Weekends in Boulder, warning and witnessing to the masses.
    Return to Oklahoma City (July 97).
My last rifle for a needed tire & some gas money (I should''ve borrowed money from my folks, for scripture puts your sword above your cloak per Luke 22:36).
    At my folk's place & the country church (Aug. 97 - Sept. 97).
        A very close small town.
        Making required repairs on the camper, wheel bearings, gaskets, fuel lines, roof leaks.
    Roby Ridge (Sept. - Oct. 97), listening to the Shirley Allen siege unfold..
        Hearing daily updates on the short-wave radio, very hard to believe.
            I hurry up repairs on the camper.
    Had to repair a water pump failure while en route to Roby, Illinois.
Arrive, finding police intimidation, so I turn over a machete, they return it (never again give up any sword or gun!).
The state police (dirty dogs).
The county sheriff's deputy (dumb dog).
The neighbors (perplexed).
The media (spies and mockers).
    CNN, CBS, TIME, Washington Post, People Magazine, etc.; !!no more press!!

The ascent up the hill (strategic parking).
Old Glory & POW/MIA (reveille & retreat).
The independent press.
    Will Freedom, mocks the police while filming them.
Police panic when a motorcycle gang drives by.
Clay Douglas (of The Free American news magazine) spends the afternoon.
Court house speech, disappointment (McLamb & JJ Johnson).
    Perplexity and bitterness (neighbors decide to do it themselves).
Supply lines established.
    Fire barrels, communications, & hay bales.
Bold neighbors.
    The women tongue lashed the police (even we blushed at the subject matter)
The police record visitor's license plates, then visit, photograph, and surveille visitor's houses (police intimidation of the community).
The car trunk full of documents, evidencing local psychiatric hospital abuses.
I record comings & goings through police lines.
    ATV's, Tow trucks, 19 loads of gravel, 3 dozers, back-hoe w/bullet shield.
Pepper gas & attack dog used on Shirley Allen.
Clay Douglas sees us again.
Electric highway message signs.
One-Eyed Jack (local radio host) explores the neighborhood.
Mt. Auburn conference (over 200 neighbors attend).
John Trockman, with protesters, addresses the police line.
(day 36) Shirley Allen runs out of water.
(day 37) electricity, fire preparations, & unruly neighbors (we compromised police lines in order to prevent the police from burning Shirley out).
(day 38) Shirley's neighbors now see things in a more dreadful light.
(day 39) Shirley's apprehension, i.e.: she gets gunned down and seized.
    Our attempted photo evidence collection foiled by a herd of curious cows, but the property owners don't want to press trespassing charges on us. The Shirley Allen siege is over, but she's now locked away in a psych-ward (then released eight weeks later, with no diagnosis, nor charges against her, only a debt).

    I responded, "This is a free country, you don’t need ID when you’re a private party, and I am."
The male Policeman responded, "Can we see your drivers license and motor vehicle registration?"
I said,"one drives a vehicle and needs to be driving to require a license, and this chassis is not involved in commerce, making it not a vehicle, but an engined carriage, therefor I’m simply directing or steering my private engined carriage, not driving a vehicle."
    The policemen never responded back so I asked If there were any safety violations or hazards that I was presenting to the public, and they said "no, but you do have an expired motor vehicle registration tag and we would be Expounding if we just let you go on your way."
    I replied, "I discovered that this chassis isn’t powered by an electric motor, but instead a gasoline engine, and that it isn’t a vehicle, but a carriage, so the motor vehicle tag is a fraud that’s been coerced upon the public.  Now if you can direct me to the Department of Engined Carriages, I’ll promptly correct the fraud I’m a victim of."
    I also discussed them with them that they are attempting to impose a non applicable commercial jurisdiction upon a private party and if they persisted, they’d be criminals impersonating police officers.   I told them,"If you still persist in doing such, it becomes my duty as a good neighbor to arrest that criminal activity and defend the innocent."
    I told them,"You are trained to force coerce and intimidate to collect revenue, and if necessary, steal kill and destroy those who don’t give it, you are trained to execute warfare upon the general public.  You are even now armed and your very presence here is threatening to me, a peaceful private party."
    The male policeman then said,"these city streets are city property, paid for by the city and as long as you are on them you must abide by our rules."
    I replied," these roads exist because the people are here, the roads would still be here even if they weren’t paved or the municipality didn’t exist, and besides, the city used the peoples money to pave with, so who really owns the right of ways?  The right of ways exist because people must travel to execute their private affairs with others, where commercial travel places an extra ordinary amount of wear and tear upon the publicly maintained right of way, and thus commercial traffic must be tolled or taxed in some way, but not a way that invades privacy, and causes responsible private parties to expose their privates in order to access the ways."
    The male policeman then said," Access has to be regulated or many will injure others and cause havoc on the roads."
    I replied," One’s level of freedom is determined by his level of self discipline, if one violates or trespasses upon another, or is a safety hazard to others, he must then make restitution to those he violates, but don’t hold one guilty who has not violated another or their property.    The male policeman at this point began to slowly move closer to the window, so to prevent him from lunging at me through the window, I gradually closed the window as he eased ever closer.
    We continued to discuss things back and forth, but when the male policeman reverted to going repeatedly over already discussed material, I stated he was doing such, and with the window now only about three inches down told him,"you are obviously exercising delaying tactics and are up to some malice, the way I see it, you have two choices, either let this peaceful private party be on it’s way or call for backup and execute your warfare."  To let them decide, I then finished closing the window and went into the back of the camper and closed the blinds.

 
    As I pulled the rear blinds, two policeman yanked their handguns out and pointed them at me in the camper.  I ducked and quietly moved to a different area, then just froze, expecting a hail of rounds to start coming into the camper.   In this moment many value priorities came to an empasse.   I had rifles with me, one I kept loaded always, but since not enough people know what's really happening now, rather than give the authorities justification for "murder and hiway piracy over having papers out of order", I would serve the community best to let the police kill me making them have to fabricate a coverup, and hope my friends can let others know that this was another act of warfare by the police against the community as a whole.
    After about 90 seconds I relaxed slightly and cautiously bobbed back and forth trying to see through the blinds if guns were still waving at me.   Seeing no one, I grabbed the disposable camera and quickly poked it under the back curtain and snapped a picture.   After taking pictures at each corner of the camper, front and back, I climbed into the upper aft bunk thinking it might receive the least amount of gunfire if a volley was to begin.
    For a couple of minutes I lay up there, considered the situation and prayed for guidance as to what the wisest things next were to do.  I reflected on my brothers being beat up by the LA cops just two weeks before the Rodney King story broke and the D.A. laughing at them when they filed their complaint.  I reflected on the thirty nine days I camped and watched State police barricade a 53 yr old women in her house in Roby Illinoise, and their preperations to burn her out, but our telling the media stopped them from following through with it.  I reflected on the premonition of the Murrah Federal Building Bombing  I’d had one week prior to it happening, and my ex wife's sister dying and my premonition about that the last time I’d seen her, and that I still had unfulfilled premonitions, which might mean I'll live through this too.
    I immediately then started to try to hook up the external speakers to the PA on one of the radios.   That radio's amplifier blew a fuse almost immediately, then I realized this was a HAM radio and didn’t have a PA function, but why did the fuse blow?.  I then wondered if the police had an EMP device to blow the radio out.  Irrelevant, I still have more radios to use, so I tried to set the two meter radio to a local repeater to contact someone, hoping to get a phone patch to 911 perhaps.
    After getting frusterated for not remembering how to recall the repeater frequencies and not having time to read the instructions, I just set the radio to scan, and it started looking for a busy frequency.  I then crept back into the top aft bunk while scrambling for more ideas.
    I finally concluded that I might be parked in a visible enough place that the police would be forced to exercise caution in there actions, instead of just killing me then fabricating evidence to cover themselves.  So to increase survival odds, buy myself more time, and to give the police a better idea of what was happening inside the camper ( if there is any honor left in even a few members of the police ranks) and an increased sense of "Control" (which is what oppressors most desire), I carefully checked then opened all the curtains and sat back at the steering wheel, looking around for where the SWAT snipers would probably be setting up by now.
 

    Well aware there were propably crosshairs on me, I rolled the window down and waved at some people to the north with cameras about ½ block away.    A police car pulled up to them and they walked away.   I noticed that my side of the road was left open about one block east and reasoned, that is where they wanted any movement to go.  I also wondered if they were wanting me to pull up there since it was next to a large open parking lot away from buildings. I concluded that I was more visible and safer here, but in the street 20 feet away I’d be more visible, thus safer yet.  I decided to find something that looked normal to do to try to calm any police suspicions that I may be unstable, etc.

    I found a half gallon container of fruit drink and a can of pears, opened the pears and ate them while seated at the steering wheel and waving to an occasional policeman, either hi, or come over here.    I saw two snipers moving to different areas, one paused, seeing me wave at him dropped his bag, then crouched down, grabbed the bag and hurried out of sight as I attempted to snap his picture.

    About then a helicopter came overhead to the north east at about 2000ft & 40 degrees, so I waved at the helicopter and went back to eating the canned pears wondering how many snipers were now watching and if they had prosecution immunity, as Horiuchi (at Ruby Ridge and Waco) seems to.
    The two meter radio was still scanning frequencies for activity, stopping occasionally on some packet activity, which was frustrating for it might not be of much use as an emergency radio.   It's not worth the risk to reread the instruction manual, not here.
    By now there were three and four layers of Police cars in all three directions.  I continued eating the pears, waiting for the police to start making requests over a bullhorn, and watched as the east exit dropped back to just two cars in the oncoming only lane, then began to wonder if they were inviting me forward.   After questioning out the window to the unseen observers, did they want me to pull forward?  And no responses from anywhere,  seeing a potential opertunity to park in the middle of the intersection for maximum visibility and survivability,  I punched the throttle three or four times and flashed the brakes to prepare everyone watching, then put it in first gear, let off the brake and inched forward, I started feeling resistance but before I could hit the brake, heard hissing coming from a tire.  Gesturing with my hands "just great!"  I backed back up a few inches, put it in park, and turned off the engine.

    Immediately there was a bang!  I looked up toward the chopper and seeing particles of glass rolling through the air , I was suddenly blinded by intense burning in my eyes and choked by a wall of needles going down my throat into the lungs.   With closed eyes I frantically tried rolling up the window while exiting into the back of the camper and into the shower stall.
    Once closed in the shower, I grabbed a towel and fought through the choking, partially paralyzed lungs and burning eyes, to keep breathing through the towel.   After about three minutes, breathing became easier, but my eyes stayed frozen shut from the burning.
        * * In this encounter at no time prior to this moment was I told by Police to step outside the camper, neither was there an attempt to give me any citation. * *
    Two more rounds hit almost together, and one bounced around some while the other fizzled.
I wondered if a fire was starting.   Then I noticed people talking on the two meter radio and wondered if I should risk showing myself to grab the mike. I decided to wait some to see what the police had in mind.
    Two rounds again, but these sounded like they might have been bullets.  I prayed, Lord, don’t let me be an embarrassment to you, I only want to serve you, life isn’t worth anything if it’s not in your service.  Then a long time went by while I listened to the conversations on the two meter radio and reflected.
    During my reflection something very strange occured.   There was a sense of warmth and assurance came upon me as my eyes nose and lungs recovered from the teargas and my senses seemed to become very keen and the constant throbbing in my back stopped.   I tested my senses by opening my eyes and breathing without the towel.   To my surprise there were no ill effects.   I opened the shower door some to see if the cabin air effected me any, and no it didn't.   Closing the shower door again, I recalled stories of individuals, one even ingulfed in a flaming house, valliantly holding off IRS and US Marshels from trying to seize his farm and house, and the commments by police afterward, that they'ld never seen such courage before, etc. and wondered if something like this happened to them during their standoffs.   I didn't think this could be possible with an addrenal rush, and again felt it presumptiouse to think that I'd been touched by the Holy Spirit.

    Then there was a moment of silence on the radio and I could tell there was a megaphone in the distance.  Not able to tell what it was saying, and wondering if they were about to crowbar the door and come in shooting, I decided it better if the news chopper could see whatever was to happen.   Thinking they might not fire on the camper while something was being said, with breath held and eyes closed, I exited the shower, sat at the wheel, confirmed the engine was off, the window up, unlocked the door, I stepped out, locked and closed the door behind me, and opened my eyes.
    Immediately from behind the camper, came a group of police with riot gear.  They released a dog at me so I raised my hand and pointed at them saying "this is absurd!" then the dog attacked my arm.

    There was no pain as the dog yanked and pulled, so I grasped the top of the dogs muzzle to try and gain control of it, but got tazzed almost immediatly.   One element was just stuck in my shirt and happened to be the one I grabbed and tossed in the dogs direction, but the dog grabbed the arm again, so this time I grabbed the dogs lower jaw and held it for about two seconds before getting hit with a second set of tazzer elements.   I lost control of the left arm and right leg.
    Doing my best to remain balanced while paralyzed, the dog disappeared, then was dragging me across the ground.   It’s hard to remember this part because the tazzer was causing flashes of light and sound in my head.

.
    I do remember the dog working his way down my side almost to my groin and the police yelling something, eventually I could tell they were saying "stop resisting" and my response was "How can I resist, I've been ambushed.".
 
.
    They called the dog but had to pull it away, then turned the tazzer off after discussing it some.
 

    I was hand cuffed and taken into custody while some police shattered the camper's steering window, and without a warrant, entered the camper, ignoring the "Warning, No Trespassing, $5000 fine per person per day for the unauthorized access or use of this property per"....etc.

    My shirt was cut open, the taze elements taped in place on my left shoulder, right belly and right leg.   The bomb squad captain asked me to tell him where the booby traps and bombs were.   I laughed at his silliness, but he persisted, saying he wanted to know where anything that goes boom or pop is.

    I told him that all items in that camper are private chattel and of no concern to him or any public agency.    He persisted, so I explained that he speaks legalese, which is a foreign language to the common tongue, and the implied similarities between these two different languages is used to commit fraud upon the common man.  A law written in a foreign language is a secret law, which is no law.

    I then told him that for the sake of practicality I’ll tell him in the common tongue where I keep my private rifles and ammo at, but that doesn’t give anyone permission to enter my home, and I then told him exactly what and where they were.   He then elaborated upon what I said and added partially assembled bombs, and a handgun, which was then reported to the news.

  
    About an hour later the dog handler and the young police woman took me to the NM University Hospital Emergency room, arriving about 6:30 pm.    Around 7:30pm the officers started joking that the dog had kennel mouth (juvenile conduct by them), and the dog attack wounds couldn’t be stitched if not cleaned within two hours of injury.  ER members came in and performed training on how to remove the new high powered flesh hook tazzer elements.   At 11:40pm (about six hours after injury) the tending and cleaning of the dog attack wounds began.    Also, a local radio station was playing pro-revolution music, for the entire time of my hospital visit, a bit odd.
    About 2:30 AM, I started processing into the county jail.  During finger printing, the police were ready to beat up anyone who will not be intimidated into giving their fingerprints and photo. Also, no Miranda rights were ever read to me before I was released in less than 24hrs with three non-moving traffic violations, failure to obey Police (without being cited for it), and a $100 bail, and no stated reason for my arrest.

    My friends showed me recordings of the TV newscasts, and internet news articles, saying that I was making Pipe bombs in the RV, that I had a pistol, and that I was a member of the local Militia.   Wow, were they trying to provoke a shoot-out, perhaps to make a big scene for the media?

  On Saturday I retrieved the camper (my home for over three ½ yrs) from impound.   This adventure has only begun.

After this, I discontinued keeping this thumbnail diary, but predictably, these were only a begining, for the adventures keep getting more exciting.

Since then, I've discovered a number of drug smuggling rings associated with reservations(5 people were killed while I was in Quemato, NM), found a truck per month meth factory(just east of Snowflake, AZ and was shot at twice when trying to video the delivery of goods into the USA by Mexican soldiers in Humvees (who were escorting illegals and a small trailer of cargo, to a gang contact), and found a laundering operation in Bismarck N.Dakota.

Dirt is everywhere, no wonder our politicians consider their own vile activities to be normal behavior. (like Hogs fighting for slop).