Brownstonelit's Blog

6/29/10

It is times like this that the good Lord reaches down and either grabs you by the scruff of your neck or firmly holds you in his arms. As they just took him down for surgery- the jury is still out! Sunday my husband and I spent the day on the river canoeing. Midway through our 10 mile run down the Broad River- he had a heart attack. With no cell service for the better part of those remaining miles, we could not reach 911 to notify them. With crushing chest pain and loss of breath- he did his best to remain conscious and alert while I was forced to frantically paddle the remaining miles to an awaiting ambulance 4 ½ miles downstream. For the last two days he has told everyone that I paddled like a mad woman- that I saved his life- that I am his hero.
As I sit in the CICU family waiting area, I must confess to you that he is wrong. Yes, I did paddle the last few miles to get him to safety- yes my whistle alerted the paramedics to where we were when they were about to leave thinking the call was a hoax, and yes… I guess you could say that I saved his life. But in a broader sense- he saved mine. Almost 30 years ago he took a precocious 24 year old and brought her safely through motherhood and menopause- taught her grace under fire and the truest meanings of loyalty and love.

I would like to thank him for his patience- his trust- his unfailing love and his warped sense of humor. I would also like to thank him for his forgiveness, for his faith in my abilities and for his unfaltering belief that we were always meant to be together.

One day I hope to prove myself worry of such dedication.
For Don…

6/29/10
For all of you who have kept silent vigil with me each night and read each blog- reading between the lines and speculating as much as I… I give you my gracious thanks. It is not only for Charley, but for you that I do this. I could have written the book and never done a blog- but there is something reaffirming about thinking out loud in this fashion. It allows me the luxury of working through my issues with this case in a more tangible format. It allows you a more intimate glimpse of a murder. I think better in ink- process better in verbiage. It is integral to the compilation and my personal comprehension of events. Tonight however, I am distracted by a series of events in my personal life. My husband had a heart attack yesterday and tomorrow he will go through open heart surgery- all this while I sit at his bedside, consoling and encouraging him- watching him turn in his slumber even as I write about another man in my life-Charley.
Like Charley on October 8th, 1966 – I do not know what tomorrow will bring me. I do not know how I will see myself in the next light of the full moon. Will I be wet nurse to my mate or widow to the world? Who can know for certain how any of us will be seen the next time lovely luna disrobes for us. For the moment, these things are certain. He is here. I am here. Charley is never far from my side these days and the brief is on its way…

What more can you ask of the gods than that?

6/28/10
There are times when silence is golden.
Then there are times when silence is just silence.
This is not one of those times.
There are times when silence sits heavy upon the air and the weight of it crushes your chest- squeezing the life out of everything you thought you believed in, everything you cherished and everything that is less than real oozes from the pours of one’s reality as little more than toxic waste.
This is one of those times.
There are things in the works that can no longer be stopped or pulled away from. The pendulum that swings has been swung, the counter balances weighted and the karma set to be delivered.

6/27/10
The package did not arrive again today… but oddly enough… a telephone call did! Shall I tell you of the contents of the conversation? I could… but then I’d have to shoot you! Nah…I’m just kidding- but hey, somebody else wouldn’t be if I did tell you!!!!

Be grateful I can keep a secret. It will keep us all safe and alive just a little longer. By the way, I have a riddle for you. What’s tall and white and acts like a time machine when you look under it? Can’t guess?????

Keep trying!

6/26/10
The day breaks and I am anxious for what it will bring … for today it just may bring a long awaited package. A package that will take this investigation to a whole new level. A package of such small measurements that you will certainly ponder its worth and yet, it will contain the golden key to the heart of this thing. Think dear readers… think.
What could be so important to this case as to keep me so focused for so long?

Charley and I had a small chat late last night. He is as anxious as I!
Do you understand, “… a picture is worth a thousand words?”

One day very soon you will understand dear reader… you will and you will be amazed!!

6/25/10
What if I were to tell you that things are happening behind the scene that I cannot share with you just yet? That people and places are being looked at very closely. That some of the people are dead… but some are very much still alive. Maybe even some who read this blog on a daily basis- trying to keep one step a head.
Do you suppose they are smart enough to know that a card laid… is a card already played and that they are already behind before they even read this? Like maybe… 44 years behind?
Hmmmmmm…. think about that with your morning coffee.
I know I will!

6/24/10

With so much happening on the personal front, Charley has been kind enough to allow me the chance to get a hold of my world before moving on with his. The package did not arrive yesterday and so I am still here today to write about a few things. Those of you who have been with me since the beginning will have possibly sensed this- those of you just arriving on board, need to go back to January and catch up.
Throughout this project, I have been given clues to direct me to the shooter. These three are the most important.

From the first session; “…male energy- law enforcement…”
From an interview; “…the top and bottom shells in the barrel were spent…”
From another session; “… he is kicking and screaming at me and he doesn’t even know me…”

Still waiting for the package…

6/22/10
Yesterday was the first day of summer and the longest day of the year. And for some that merely meant more hours in their day to swim, play tennis or lounge in the sun. For me it meant waiting for precious information to make its way to my door. While it is a few days later than I originally thought it might take place… the information is now on its way to me and so I wait patiently for its arrival.
Still looking for the man in the fishing boat…
The young girl with the blonde hair that fell in a ravine…
The man who drove the fire truck…

No longer looking for the woman who was raped out by the VPD lake house…
Nor the meaning of the cheese cutter…
Or the man who died of a heart attack in his bed at 61 years of age one week after Charley was murdered…
And I finally figured out how Tifton played such a big role in this thing…
And why the #19 and #1545 are so connected to one another…

All this to say that the clock ticks… the hour approaches… and the expectations are high that soon… very soon, I may no longer be able to write at all about what I have learned. When you suddenly see this page go blank and stay blank.

You will know the package has arrived!
Until later then…

6/21/10
AP
“…HELENA, Mont. (June 15) — The aging Frank Dryman, a notorious killer from Montana’s past, had hidden in plain sight for so long that he forgot he was a wanted man.
In an exclusive jailhouse interview with The Associated Press, Dryman detailed how he invented a whole new life, with a new family, an Arizona wedding chapel business – and even volunteer work for local civic clubs.
“They just forgot about me,” said Dryman, in his first interview since being caught and sent back to the prison he last left in the 1960s. “I was a prominent member of the community.” Frank Dryman, 79, a notorious killer from Montana, is back behind bars after skipping out on parole and evading authorities for 40 years.
That is, until the grandson of the man he shot six times in the back came looking…”

This is a portion of an article I read the other day. It was interesting in that I found there to be a great many parallels to this story about Charley. Especially the part about hiding people and things in plain sight—hidden in plain sight for so long, that they think the world has forgotten that crimes were committed.
Charley hasn’t forgotten…J hasn’t forgotten and me?
Well, you know by now how I feel about a scavenger hunt… don’t you?

6/18/10
One of the things mentioned in a recent session by R was that the investigation would take shift in direction between the 14th and the 17th of June. In fact a small shift did occur on the 16th. I will wait to see if this is what R or Charley had in mind, or if there is something underway from another angle I have yet to navigate. None the less, tomorrow is Saturday and it should be a lovely day for a ride in the country—a nice long ride.

I have a few inconsistencies that continue to plague me…
There is a report from the Sheriff’s Department, pulled from a personal memoir that never mentions that the Sheriff was there that night. Yet in a reading from R, they present that the Sheriff was there- silent standing under an umbrella in a downpour… watching, waiting and making certain his a__ was covered. It bothers me too, that there are no timelines mentioned in this report, other than the initial 11:00 reporting of the phone call by two boys to Brooks County. A call that was later remade to Lowndes County. What bothers even more is that there is no date reflected on this report. Odd, don’t you think? An official document- with no date, no timelines? Including what time the photos were taken. Everything is very open to interpretation. Now, 1966 isn’t that long ago- so why the lack of accountability and yet tons of ambiguity? Why would you leave a report like that so open ended?
In fact, all the witness statements are recorded over 9 days after the event. Why is that? Aren’t statements taken that same time as the crime for a reason? Accuracy? Allowing one the ability to vet and verify a whiteness’s innocence and/or culpability?

Too much time… too much time is built in between the crime and the witness statements. And the report refers to 8 crime scene photos, yet there are only 6 in this file. Why? What or who was reflected in those other photos, that it became necessary to remove them from a file- even a personal one? There is one redeeming quality to this report. Being, that its owner had both pages of the GBI Crime Lab report in tact. Page two, which is the most important page of all- ballistics! Now, why the GBI could not cough up both original pages to their own report is a real focus of interest for me. Why? Because this Deputy Sheriff got it from them in the first place– didn’t he? Wouldn’t they of all people and organizations have a complete copy of their own findings???

I have many questions my friends… 157 pages of them and they all begin and end with those who did the investigation to begin with. How is it that 44 years later, a widow’s journal,two buckets of information and whispering ghosts who now lay beneath the sandy soil the perpetrators still like to call home– give away more information than those who claim to have been first responders that night back in 1966?
Bet you’re just dying to know why…

I know Charley did.