5/16/11
It would seem as though a great many movements are taking place behind the scenes, as numbers are rampant and so is information. I must be careful to discern where some information is bleeding from and from what agenda it manifests itself. Always cautious, I wait will baited breath to see where all this will lead me.
Can I just ask you how it has come to pass that such a tiny burg as Valdosta in 1966 was such a Mecca for absolute disdain of integrity and truth? It appears as though nothing was beyond the scope of debauchery back then. Look at all the extracurricular activities that went on for civilians and law enforcement: moonshine… porn… drugs…illegal gambling… guns, and even counterfeit money. Ironic, don’t you think? I am always shocked by the many facets of reality. My reality is not yours, yours is not mine and the guy sitting next to you on the bus will always have a completely different one from either of us.
Isn’t life incredible?
To think that all that was going on in Valdosta in 1966, while I was still wearing anklets, drinking Tang and writing Jesus, Mary and Joseph in the upper right hand corner of my papers absolutely flogs me. Funny, how we take our realities for granted- assuming that everyone else lives their lives the same way. Not that I thought everyone else was forced to wear anklets and drink Tang… it’s just that I had no idea evil was such a casual resident in other rural places. Oh, I’m not saying Iowa didn’t have its hot beds of crime… Ok. I am saying that! Iowa was a fairly tame place back then; at least where I lived, but to think that truth was traded as such a commodity in the underbelly of such a little Southern litter box confounds me.
But I digress. Let’s take a look back at recent events from a blog’s view. Days before, I wrote a blog about doing just that-looking back! They asked me to go back and look at what was faxed to or from me on a specific date. Amazingly, my memory faltered for a minute or two- but as usual, my files did not! Curiosity piqued, I pored over my files searching for dates and do you know what cropped up?
Hmmmmmmmm…..
That’s right-the death certificate for the MOT.
Again!
Soooooooo… after 30 more minutes of intense review- I came up with nothing more than my original concerns and questions. That was of course, until…
Until… my husband pointed something out to me I had missed in my de-sensitized familiarity concerning the document. How did this happen? Well… when you have scrutinized as many documents as I have in this case and with some of them being the same ones over and over, infinitum… it happens. Thanking God for a fresh pair of eyes- I waded my way through names and dates again and then suddenly there it was! He pointed to another line and I sensed his intrigue immediately.
48 hours…
The MOT died just days after Charley. Alarmed? No… not yet. You already knew about that line of information. What was alarming though- is that they actually placed a time of death on it. Furthermore, they followed that by the next line which held the time of the funeral service. Alarmed yet?
Ok… hang on! Here’s where the ‘alarming’ part comes into play, ready?
There are only 48 hours in between them. Not alarming enough for you? Well… how about if he died in Valdosta and was buried in Augusta? Now… I’m lucky if I can get the phone company to even call me back in 48 hours, let alone find a body- prepare a body for burial- transfer a body and get him buried!
Now that’s alarming… isn’t it???
Trips my trigger!
Brownstonelit's Blog 
Leave a Reply