Archive for July, 2012

BTW’s… cute car!

July 29, 2012

7/29/2012

 

I am happy that the end of this month is near. July seems to be the month for retrograde of every kind; communications, emotions, best intensions…

While some retrogrades allow us to stand still for a moment and revisit issues in an attempt to deal with them with more grace; sometimes the stall creates more frustrations than the actual issue itself. Thus, my month and I will be happy to send it sailing off the calendar!

I have worked hard these past few years and anxious for the culmination, this month has ground down my finely tuned patience to almost non-existence. Yes, there are things that have happened of late that are wonderful- even monumental and I am very grateful for their entrance upon this stage. Still, my internal engines have been revving for so long that  my tires grow weary of the spin without the carrot of traction to move forward.

Patience… patience… patience is the mantra I must repeat over and over to calm my soul. Anxious for August, when the weight of the #2 year will begin to release its hold on my momentum, I stare at the middle of the week and pray for its enthusiastic discharge.  The signs are everywhere. They ask me if I am ready and while I eagerly chomp at the bit, I have no idea where it will all lead… only that it must lead somewhere other than here. Here in this stagnant hamster wheel where I run my little legs off and stare at the same old scenery as I go by.

I do have chores to do. The final pages of this book have been crafted and re-crafted, turned over and plowed under a thousand times to create more fertile soil for just the right ending.

Why do I wait?

Because I have not heard from you yet.

Because there are people out there with information, or questions that they wish to ask and I refuse to commit to the final paragraph without their input. If you have contacted me before and have waited to get back…follow through, for the time grows short and I wish to be of service to you all. I have, in years gone by answered every contact, every miniscule inquiry, and researched every suspicion and will continue to do so.

Tit for tat, my dear readers.

You help me… I help you.

There are enough of you now that follow this blog, that have pieced this thing together and wait with baited breath as to how it will end. Actually, there are more than enough of you who follow this blog. Dare I say most of Valdosta and far beyond your little burg has heard of this now and those of you who have much to worry about… have much to worry about!  For you, your respectable veneers have thinned so that you are now nearly transparent to those who seek the truth. Before, when days would lag in between my posts, you would consider me mute or quite without inspiration. Now when days lag in between posts, you wonder… What else does she know? Who is watching me now? Are they at the doorstep? Is that them on the phone? Does my neighbor think this is me?

 

The answers?

 

If you just asked those questions… the answer is YES.

I always know more, because I continue to search for the truth in this case and there are those now even more willing to share it.

Who is watching you now? Everybody!

Are they at your doorstep?  They may be just around the corner… or right across the street.

Is that them on the phone? Not answering it only makes you look more suspicious in their eyes.

Does your neighbor think it’s you? That you could be one of the 4 in flannel who took great glee in erasing the lives of Charley, Jessica, Roxanne and the MOT? And what of the other man who wore the brown suit and paces still with ghostly steps at the 4-way, waiting on Grim to give back the money and tell him the truth about what he was dragged into! Perhaps you could mail it back to him, Grim. Rumor has it he waits at his mailbox, still.

So, does your neighbor think it’s you? Does your Preacher think it’s you? Does your wife kow who she beds at night? Do your children suspect the blood all over your hands? And will they be able to forgive you for the lie of your life?

Good question.

Too bad you are too afraid to find out the answer… because by asking it? You have just confirmed all their fears!

Have a nice day, Grim.

BTW’s… cute car! Surprised it was so small…since all of you once seemed to prefer the big boxed Buicks. So much better for moving bodies or… at least violating them before hand.

 

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Remember?

July 20, 2012

 

7/19/2012

I know it has been days…

Evening storms and long full days at work have kept me away from the laptop and checking in. So many things have happened since the last blog, I scarcely know where to start and yet the point is moot; as I cannot tell you most of what has transpired. Suffice it to say that angels have walked among my days and the path seems to be clearing for the fruition of many dreams. For this I am eternally grateful.

 

A puff of wind that blew a small feather in circles about my feet yesterday like a small kitten who darts and weaves its way in and about one’s ankles was a sign from Charley that he is with me…a small dish of bird or sesame seeds that I have yet to deduce, a man and a cigar, a woman from another case are but a few of the impressions that have come through this week. One of my favorites was a quote from Benjamin Franklin:

“Either write something worth reading… or do something worth writing about.”

Thus, I confess the last few days have been spent wholly on the book and my theatre work- so many of each, which has left me so little time to write simply for the sake of writing. Things are happening dear readers and you should be able to sense the same within your own lives. This has been a dividing day…A day for letting go of and getting rid of the old- people, places and situations that no longer serve us…thoughts and attitudes which poison our perceptions. A day to look forward and leave the dwindling horizon behind.

Today I received a call which brought me the promise of a great blessing and I look forward to another soon that will tell me that I have done Charley proud and not abandoned the task before the miracle could be delivered. This book is good.. no, this book great! But I fear that no matter how many letters apart from real names and real intentions I try to place folks- those of you in the know, will see through its charade and find the 4 in flannel to be exactly whom you thought and feared them to be.

The men of your churches… your neighbors… the pillars of your community…those who took an oath to protect and defend you and cheat Karma.

But can you ever beat the great equalizer?

Can it be that the calendar pages will continue to flip beyond this year? Will fate drag this out one more season or will we be done with it before the return of autumn?

They see Grim being boxed in a corner- trapped- with no other way out but to tell what he knows.

They show Einstein holding his tongue- he will drown in his own lies.

They show the farmer in the dell under the strain of lights- talk -talk -talk they say!

 

The keeper of the court? He wil forever remain culpable!

Where are the blades that cut Charley’s arms? What was in the farmer’s lunch box? Where is the weapon that delivered the second shot? Where are the cheek bones that met with the shovel? And where  is the necklace that shines from under water as the broken neck bobs in the waves?

 

On the night of this new moon… may the victims in this case, haunt the living and bring them to heel.

 

For me, I have several Saints to plea for other favors:

St. Victus- the patron saint of theatre, vocals and seizures.

St. Johnathon- the patron saint of editors, book sellers, publishers

St. Teresa- the patron saint of writers

 

May they all intercede upon my behalf and prove to those who embrace evil, that light will always triumph over dark.

 

Want to borrow a flashlight to bring you out of the dark, Grim? I can ask Charley if he will let you use the one you placed beside his body that night… not too far from his hat!

Remember?

Once forgiven…

July 8, 2012

7/8/2012

There are many divine properties to this adventure and yesterday another one unveiled itself to me.

All along I have been writing of the trials of Charley and those that murdered him… I have even included the trials of the other victims that have now found a way to move forward in their evolution. In all of this, I too have had many trials and have evolved from one individual to quite another.

Did I always believe in divine law? Yes…

Did I always believe in divine love and forgiveness? Yes…

Did I ever experience either of these before? Yes…

Did I forget what they taught me in the midst of my own personal trials? Yes…

And so another breakthrough.

 

Yesterday was the 7th and while my mind was wrapped around other clues, my heart was decidedly somewhere else deliberating an ancient dilemma.

Why?

Because truth is a fickle thing. They say it sets you free… but does it always? Sometimes there is the use of truth as catharsis for healing… and sometimes there is use of the truth as armor or weapon. I know this is all sounds terribly cryptic and it is meant to be. This is for me to vomit and for you to tolerate at this time, but it does give one pause.

Do you have a truth which both sets you free, even as it ensnares another? A truth that can liberate and enslave us, all at the same time?

This book’s intro has been in a stall position for several months for just such a reason and I have spent many a moment in silent prayer as to how to decide which is the better course. Yesterday I saw the movie Moonrise Kingdom and while it had little to do with my real life- it spoke to me about something else. That combined with kind words and honest apparaisal, I saw the eventual light of a situation I had remained tunnelled on for far too long. For this brief moment of absolute clarity, I must thank my dear friend Delores. You see, once a thing is set free- it can no longer be caged- controlled. A truth may leave the cage one animal and without permission become something else entirely. A truth without segue is a wild animal that mutates among lies and grows teeth and fangs that later it may use on its liberator. A truth begs explanation. Then one must explain the explanation and that explanation begets another explanation and so on… and the explanations become interminable and the truth lost all together!

Yesterday it finally became quite clear that a truth can still be a truth without  such complications.

What on earth does this have to do with Charley’s story? Everything and nothing… and while that does not help you to discern what it is I am not saying…sometimes just to hear yourself think out loud is all that is necessary to make sense of something. Each of us carries hurts; both self inflicted and self absorbed. Hurts that wound us so deep we cut off all acknowledgement in order to survive and process. Moments that create baggage we carry throughout every other experience and even though we are ready to fly, unbeknownst to us we remain tethered… perhaps not academically, but emotionally. Emotional baggage is not just the hyper sensitivity to certain trials, but also the dead weight of denial and/or obliteration. Not dealing with something is just as bad as constantly living within it and using it as both validation and explanation for where we are or where we were.

Yesterday I saw my suitcase for what it was- luggage. A place where I stored all my precious truths to take with me on this voyage. Suddenly I have arrived at my destination and I realize that I have over-packed. I did not need a suitcase full of explanations. I needed only one truth to get here and stay here- I was chosen to write this story. And that truth alone, should be more than enough to keep me warm when people’s words become too cold at what they have read, or enough to keep me cool when later they decide to bring on the heat for the words I’ve written!

Today, I am here. A place I have never been before and I cannot and do not have the right to keep myself from fully exploring where just TODAY can take me.

Today… I had a God-wink. (Thank you Mary) Oh to be sure- just one of a million a long the way, but in the instant I had it… my heart was lightened a thousand fold and I could breathe again.

R once told me I would know when to stop writing… when the book/story would be finished and I could share it with the world and move on. With today’s decision, I believe I have reached that time. Will I continue to blog about this?

Maybe yes…maybe no.

 

There are still so many clues and so many who have things they both wish and need to share with me, to help them make sense of their own pasts and I respect that and would not leave them without remedy as they are now part of this incredible tapestry that together Charley and I have woven. But for today at least, the path for me is finally clear which way the winds should blow. You see in the end sometimes, it is not only the other person we must forgive… it is most often ourselves. Charley has done such and he has taught me to be so gracious in kind, not only with others- but with myself.

Once forgiven…we set others and ourselves free.

Today I am free.

For R

Location…location…location!

July 6, 2012

7/6/2012

I apologize for not writing more… I have been on vacation.

Oh, nothing so grandiose as traveling to far away lands or visiting the shining coast. Not for me. I am most happy with hot coffee and my laptop, unlimited time to read and write… a chance to play on my own beach with family and enjoy a glass of chilled wine while watching a setting sun hover just above the familiar tree lines of  my Georgia landscape.  And it has been a vacation of both work and play.

The book as you know, is always in my mind and always at the edge of my fingerprints. I have spent many hours of my life in this pursuit and while it has been exhausting- it has been well worth it.

For days now, feathers have placed themselves within my path. Fortune cookies have heralded the coming of information and good news. There is something in the air and I can’t quite put my fingers on it, but it is just this side of palpable. The Cardinals have been active of late as well, which means my mother and father have been about me and as always, I am most happy for their company and guidance.

I have written of many clues in this blog and in writing the book, revisit some I have never out into print. Even now I sit and wonder about, “ the letter opener with the flame on it.”

Who did it belong to? What did they use it for besides opening letters? Did it have anything to do with the lacerations on Charley’s arms? Was this what was hidden inside the silver lunch box the farmer in the dell carried with him that night when he and G met with Charley?

I have  a lovely letter opener here on my desk, of recent acquire and it is quite ornate and bejeweled. It has a sleeve of leather and looks very much the dagger. It has sat upon my desk now for over a week and it continues to remind me that there are clues still untethered… errant clues still out there without segue, and it keeps this case ever current on my mind.  So here is a public plea. Pay attention Valdosta! Who is Alexa or Alexander? Who worked at the Carson McLane Funeral home and did hair/make-up for the dead in October of 1966? C’monValdosta… who worked for the morgue back then? Somebody knows…I need to talk with them. Why?

Because the 4 in flannel kept Charley’s widow away from the funeral home that night and the next day and even into the next.  Can you imagine- they kept this woman from her husband’s body for over 72 hours. Why? Because there were marks on his arms and other parts of his body that supposed suicide cannot explain! That’s why! So how much did they pay you all to keep quiet? Whatever it was… it was not enough. Especially as it all begins to unravel. I’ve got it! You can call Grim and ask for more if you need to. I have his number… in more ways than one! LOLZ Ha! I don’t even have to look it up- although it’s right in the phone book. Feel free to contact me and I can out you in touch with him.

Getting nervous, Grim? Don’t worry… even if your number has changed-your address hasn’t. I’ll make sure they can get in touch with you.

Say…wouldn’t that be funny if folks finally got the courage to help? Wow…even the orderlies at PineviewHospital back then would be of great help. I understand there were two- both African American. Maybe they have relatives who are reading this. Maybe they are not sure the mailbox accident was really an accident either. If you catch my drift.

If so… can you contact me? It was October 9, 1966-October 10th when they finally got to the morgue at Pineview. Biggest news in town for several weeks. You’ll know who I am talking about. McGowan brought the body in between 3-4 in the morning. A 44 year old male, white, two gunshot wounds. One above and behind the right ear and one up through the chin. He also would have had lacerations on both his arms. Oh and a wedding ring-mostly because Grim could not get it pulled off his fingers.

Oh… and I have photos too if you need help  to identify Charley’s body. That’s right… those pesky old crime scene photos that everyone thought were destroyed. Boy, they sure have come in handy.

So, there you go Valdosta. You want to really take back your town’s history? Here is your chance!

Oh yea… and if you worked at the Daniel Ashley Hotel in October of 1966- even if you were just a maid or a janitor. A man died there in one of the rooms-probably somewhere around the 12-14th of October. They claimed it was aheart attack, but golly- who beats themselves up and then has one? Folks came in and out of his room for days, but they left his bruised and beaten body inside one of the rooms until October 15th when McGowan’s carted it away.  Wonder why? Anybody still alive who had to clean up that room on October 15, 1966?

We should chat!

 

Oh… and I also heard a law enforcement building was right across the street from that very same hotel back then. I can just imagine the view. Folks coming and going all the time…. checking in– checking out. Sometimes only for an hour or so at a time! What cool rates, huh? Or maybe it was even free- if you knew the right people. Bet there was lots of “interviews” at that place. Old men… younger women…folks that got the crap beat out of them because they wouldn’t spill the beans- or maybe because they had already spilled the beans! Gosh, I get so confused-must have been a hopping place, though. Mr. Einstein. Mr. Pocket Protector, even the pipe-smoker really loved that old hotel, so I hear. Grim too if the rumors are true… in fact, rumors say the 4 in flannel practically made it the icon it is. At least for me…thanks guys!

 

A properties value is not only in its history, but its  patrons. Well, you know what they say about real estate!

It’s all about…

Location…location…location!

 

Convenient, huh?

 

You know how to find me, Valdosta…just whistle!


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