Archive for October, 2012

If you have any information…

October 28, 2012


We are getting  close the final editing stage of the book. If you have information you need me to know or if you have other information that you think might be helpfull to plugging other holes…or, if you just want answers to questions you have long pondered… you know how to contact me. Just hit the contact/comment box at the end of this entry and it will find me.  I will always listen. I may not tell you all that I know just yet, but I can help you understand if your information is peripheral or spot on.

Do not let Charley down.. do not let yourselves down, Valdosta. Many of you have stepped forward , still… some of you wait in the shadows hoping others will do your work for you. If you know something-STEP FORWARD. I will keep your confidence. History is not only be written here- it is being re-written to reflect the truth of what I believe happened out there on the Clyattville-Nankin Road that night of October 9, 1966. There were many players in this. Some dead- some still alive. They know who they are and so do I. Soon the world will know of them too.

Stay tuned…


October 26, 2012



Huge changes are coming!

Let me buy you a fan…

October 23, 2012


Has there been an unusual heat wave down in Valdosta lately? Folks sure seem to be getting nervous and sweating a lot from what I hear. Chill out, Grim. All you have to do is step to the plate… confess… and the heat will die down.

If not?

Let me buy you a fan!

I can feel it in the air…

October 20, 2012


Things are about to change… I can feel it in the air.

People are reaching out like never before. Information is being received and contacts are being made. Closure, like the chill in the air surrounds me and teases with new information. Somebody is about to break. Somebody has figured out there is nothing more they can do to escape justice, but face the music first and they are preparing to sing to lessen their punishment. Can you hear them?

Charley? Are you ready?

Step forward…

October 19, 2012


I am heartened by the attention to detail by my readers…

You do so much of the work for me as you ponder each clue and submit your suppositions. I am appreciative of all those who continue to crawl from the shadows of fear and retribution to aid in this noble quest. Those precious few of you who sit in the afternoons and evenings racking your memories to help me piece this all together. This recent clue about the car is important, for that car has been seen in many other scenarios throughout this entire spree of violence.

Last night I was sent the image of one of Charley’s lighters with his initials engraved on the silver casing. It was all I cold do not to cry. Immediately I could sense the personal ownership, hear the rasp of the wheel as it grated against the flint and filled the air with the ensuing familiar scent of Butane. I could see the smoke wind and curl about his features…watch as the trail of smoke wound its way through the Georgia pines surrounding him that night.

I know you are speaking to me lately Charley and the feeling is bittersweet as another anniversary has passed, and still you wait amongst the ethereal shadows of the Clyatteville-Nankin   Road for justice to be served. I see them standing there Charley- screaming at you about the location of the __________. The swirl of the gun barrel, as the shooter threatened you…the cursing and swearing of G and the other men, like wild wolves of an officer’s pack as they begn to close the margins surrounding the car-diminishing the possibility of your escape. All this while Hazel sat at a table with a stale cigarette and a cold cup of coffee, worried about the future of her marriage as her children slept fitfully in their beds not knowing their father was being slaughtered.

So far this month, Jessica has stepped to the plate…Charley has held my metaphorical hand…Roxanne hints of her presence in the autumn air and even G has steeped forward-brazen as she is, I appreciate her efforts to reverse her Karma.

What I need now if for the MOT to reach out and help me pin down the final details of his last moments in the Daniel Ashley Hotel that night.

Hear me MOT?

Step forward…

Do you know?

October 17, 2012


Yesterday was amazing…

G came through and had much to say. Again with the date of December 12th which I find intriguing. Why? Look at this…12/12/12. Numerology baby! Check out the significance.

Just the same she was very abrasive and got in R’s face about two things: the letter T and the car. What car? Well, a car of a certain someone who she needed me to know about. This man drove a car- a Thunderbird to be exact. It was white and silver, or white or silver and had a line that went down the side. A panel or a stripe of molding per say that may have separated the two colors.

She was also adamant about the letter, “T” instructing that I was either missing a T or that I had added an extra one to something.  Seeing as I had been talking about the MOT that very afternoon… R and I thought perhaps she was referring to him. In which case, removing a T would make this man’s name or nickname to be MO.

So who is this MO who drove a white or silver Thunderbird and had a connection to G and the girls?

Take that clue and place it with Jessica’s recollection of the big boxy white or silver car  in Dalton that had to do with the man who had the wrinkled tattoo of the anchor on his forearm as he held her down and we have a better composite of who he might have been. Someone who travelled between Atlanta, Dalton and Valdosta…someone who new G, the girls and the rest of the gang.

When I asked about who this man might be… the answer I received was incredible. So who was this man who drove a T-bird and went by the name of MO and had access to the 4 in flannel, the others and the dead girls in 1966?

Do you know?

Promise to live a long, long time for me…

October 13, 2012


Dear Readers,

Some of you are younger and some of you are a bit older…like me and you might remember the more nostalgic beginnings of television. So here goes.

Do you remember a cartoon that used to start with a character that would begin the show in a creepy cartoon voice by saying…

“Eennie weenie… chili beanie… the spirits are about to speak!”?

Well… they have!

Grim, another box of DEPENDS is on its way to you! I have found another person who has called you out. Some one who has always suspected you had your hands in this. They asked if it was true and I…well, I just thought they deserved to know the truth, so I told them! Hope you don’t mind.

But here’s the rub. It won’t do us any good if you die young so do me a favor. Eat right, get plenty of sleep, walk a mile everyday, watch your weight and take a vitamin every night! I need you to promise to live a long, long time for me. That way we can be pen pals when you get to prison!

Oh… and tell the gang who helped you work the drugs and guns out there at the Ga/Fla border- along with the trains carrying illegal hooch a big warm hello for me! Sorry… darn I forgot. Most of them are dead. Still, some folks remember stuff so all is not lost. Anyway, let me ask you this. Do you remember which one is it that you helped onto the tracks. (metaphorically speaking) You know, the one that they called, the scapegoat? Try to think back. You know- he knew too much and so…

Oh never mind. I know your busy crapping in your shorts right now, so I’ll just get that info from another source and get back to ya to confirm!

Have an awesome day, Grim and say Hi to the others for me, will ya? I know they’re all just dying to see how this all turns out. Just tell them not to do it too soon. Tootles!

One of you has stepped forward…

October 11, 2012


Oh my dear readers!

Thank you, thank you!

One of you has stepped forward and finally given me one of the best clues ever!!!! Do you remember back when we first talked about Jessica? Jessica who was murdered early on in this case? Do you remember how certain people would come into town and request her audience? Certain people who would shock you, if you knew? Well… one thing that kept coming through was how this all went down.

How did Gentleman (and I use that term loosely) get his hands on her?

How did Jessica get to the, ‘love shack’ to meet up with her mystery date?

Well… the man with the scar and glasses used to get a phone call. Next, he would pass a slip of paper that had the name of this mystery man…S_________ written on it to another man to go get her.

Who was this man? The man who would go and pick Jessica up and deliver her like pizza to the man waiting for sex at the house at the end of the long sandy driveway?

Until now, I had only a handful of clues and did not know…but thanks to you Valdosta– I now have my answer. This man who drove the cute little red sports car and delivered Jessica like pizza was law enforcement too!

Oh happy days, Charley! And thank you Jessica!! Thank you!

Thanks you for prompting someone’s memory and for having the courage to speak up. How many more of you know things, you don’t know you know??

Getting a little too hot for you now, isn’t it Grim? Perhaps I should buy a fan to send along with that package of DEPENDS I’ve been holding on to for you.

To quote a wonderful character from the production I am now producing… “Wanna play with a little fire, Scarecrow?”

(Insert maniacal laugh here.)

Charley shows her seven lines…

October 9, 2012



Today is Charley’s day and I promised myself I will not mourn his death; rather, I will celebrate his life and ponder his words.


Already today he has spoken with R and given me a message. As I sat there at my writing desk and looked lovingly upon his 8×10…my phone beeped with a text just as I blew him a kiss. It was from R.


‘Charley is here with roses for you. He shows me lines- there are 7 of them. He draws four lines, then runs the fifth diagonally through them… then produces two more lines. December 12th is significant…’ and there was more.


Do you understand the number of lines? Before Sunday I might not have caught his drift so quickly, but after my information on Sunday… absolutely! Do you understand the number of lines?


They are the number of victims! Let’s see…who knew everything and had to be removed from the equation of life?

Count with me, can you Grim?

#1: Jessica

#2: Charley

#3: Roxanne

#4: The MOT

#5: Mr. Bugman

And who might number six be?

#6: The man who was killed by the train! (I have been chasing his legacy for 2 and1/2 years.)


Now I just have to identify the 7th victim.

Can you help me Valdosta?


On this 46th Anniversary of your murder, I ask that the angels fly you through this night unscathed and that you live through my words to teach others the art of divine forgiveness. With a lighter heart, I offer a kiss for your cheek, a smile for your patience with me and a hug for your pain- I wish you peace.


For you my dear Charley… and for Julie.

With love,


Do you know which lake it was?

October 7, 2012


For you Roxanne…

Just like October 7, 1966 the weather has turned cool. I have a pot of soup going and corn muffins baking in the oven as I write. The cottage on the lake is wonderfully appointed for fall and I sit here, happy as a clam at my desk in oversized shirt and lounge pants. Could it get any better? Yes…if Grim would be brave enough to call me…I would answer and discuss the best way for him to give himself up. He may not call today, but I am a patient woman, so I can wait a bit longer for him to come to his senses. You see- I know something he doesn’t know I know yet!

Yesterday I wrote that a secret would be revealed to me. Later in the afternoon my ‘angel song’ came on the radio and I knew something was going to happen. My

Angel song’ is Adam Lambert’s, “What Do You Want From Me?” and this morning when I got a call from my favorite area code…229… Suddenly I knew exactly what the universe wanted from me today.

So, what does the universe want from me today? Hmmmm… you know I love you dear readers, but there are some things I need to keep to myself right now- you understand. You see, today is Rox’s anniversary. Forty-seven years ago tonight, Roxanne would have lay down with a man from the ‘4 in flannel’ and while lying next to him made a terrible mistake. She asked a question that sealed her doom.

The next thing you now, she is being dragged from the ______________ to the tree where they take turns screaming at her- hitting and kicking her. The MOT does not join in, but he is paralyzed and does not stop them either. One last time the little blonde hooker will get hers. They laugh at her. Grim reaches for her throat and she grabs his face with her fingernails, trying to fight him off. This is where his scar comes from that night. The scar just under his left eye, partially hidden now by thick rimmed glasses. His hands are on her throat- but what’s this? A game of chance is suggested, but to be fair- they toss a coin to see who gets to take her completely out. The MOT refuses to join in, but they can’t allow this. He must be part of it, or they can’t blackmail him further. His hands must be at her throat too- so they force him to place his hands on her. Then, together they apply pressure. She struggles, but with all those hands and the weight of the men atop her- there is little she can do. She squirms beneath their weight until the last few wisps of air escape her blue lips into the Valdostan night. They stand back and smile. Einstein has made a mess in his pants- but he likes this. He is a sexual deviant.

They spend a moment staring at their handiwork… but there is a boat in one of the other ponds they did not realize was there. The man in the boat heard things… saw things. Quickly they toss the body in one of the upper ponds and steal their way away in the dark of night. Grim is nervous. He does not know what lie he should tell his wife to cover the gash that now lies beneath his glasses.

Think back dear woman…what lie did he tell you that night? A gash under his left eye? He couldn’t explain it then- can he explain it now?

Tonight, bruised and battered, the young blonde Roxanne will walk the shores of that little lake and say once again…the “4 in flannel” were there with me! They had their way with me, then held me down while the pipe smoker did the final deed. Three sets of hands were on her throat as the MOT watched.

Do you know which lake it was?

I do.

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