Brownstonelit's Blog

3/6/2014

I’m back…finals for me are at last finished! My new show opens tomorrow night…and I can breathe!! I know you have felt slighted- I too have missed the calm of pen to pad… of mind engaged and yet, I do school to enhance my understanding and my abilities to participate within these cases as an active and educated investigative author. You would not want me poking around in this __________ without being mindful of evidence- proper procedure and violations of the law. That being said, my closets are filled with boxes and research papers awaiting my eager hands and I am desperate to dive back into my ongoing cases!

Joy and rapture is mine and with Spring knocking on the door- the outside and the joy of criminal discovery can at last become my mental destination. Do not think that I have not been in need of return. Much has been going on in the silences you have endured and behind the scenes; case alterations and updates, familial crisis with elderly parents, academic pressures and job related obligations and responsibilities have weighed so heavy upon these shoulders since the end of December…enough said, but know that there is finally light at the end of the tunnel- potential release for those in misery and joy to again align with Source for a divine purpose.

I am now free from academic burdens until mid August and plan to use this time to continue work on the Dixie Mafia case book, as well as the startling Columbus Strangler case that has captured my imagination and unhinged my opinion of the South.

Be prepared for an interesting ride the remainder of this month and for the next few…

Charley is not forgotten; he now helps on other cases and his input is invaluable.

2/23/2014

I thought about this before deciding to share…

Last night, in fact for several nights now I have had the most graphic and odd kind of dreams. The first I cannot share until I divine its meaning. The night before I dreamed I had been invited to a beautiful Gothic style home- hauntingly beautiful and once inside I was surrounded by beautiful young women who gathered me up into a room to ask me all about my writing and my books. Convinced I had been asked there to discuss what I do, I talked about how Charley and R, had helped me to figure things out. They asked what was next and I said that while in the midst of developing one case, I was being led to another.

With each little bit of information and description about what I was being asked to do…they began to huddle closer and closer. So close, that I became very uncomfortable. I tried to excuse myself and they surrounded me and would not let me leave. When I said that I no longer wished to discuss my work and had another place to be, one very young and beautiful red-head stepped forward and told me I would not be allowed to leave. She brought her face very close to mine and  then as she spoke…her porcelain features began to melt and drip from her face.

She repeatedly told me I could not leave and when I backed away and made a move to exit, she grabbed me by me shoulders and shook me. The others began to shape shift as well and when I looked back into what was left of her face, it changed to the head of a vulture. A vulture with a balding head of random strands of red hair, with a beak and blackened feathers and pale white eyes. This creature reminded me of the tall, black feathered creature that had once held me in another Gothic style dungeon and tried to force me to eat from a wooden bowl filled with foul smelling  flesh.

Again, uncertain that this was still a dream, I began to say a prayer to Arch Angel Michael and was immediately released.

I leave you to your own analysis…

2/23/2014

I know you have been wondering where I have been and to tell the truth, I have too. It has been hard of late to be everywhere and everything. Weather has had its fun with us all, work unrelenting, school daunting this semester and there have been familial crisis’s every other day with my husband’s mother and that tends to take the wind out of everybody’s sails…still time marches on regardless of our trials and that leaves little time to breathe or write.

It has been a matter of multiple disconnects of late; necessary and yet it leaves you feeling empty sometimes. So many variables in the wind and so much to accomplish in so little time. 2014 is suppose to be, “the year” and I am patiently, or not so patiently waiting for that to begin. I watch the stars, read the numbers, listen tot he wind and while I can feel the stir- I have yet to see any visual results, but they say be patient…it is all happening behind the scenes and I get glimpses of that here and there enough to know that it is true.

How do I know this? Somebody received a copy of my book from somebody they have never met; an undercover former agent…that somebody then called me to help them with another case. Now, the last time that happened I was in the middle of writing another book: “Message Will be Saved,” when the universe decided to redirect me. Now, knee deep into another book, the universe has brought me another case I cannot walk away from. Why, you ask?

In as much as Charley consumed my life for 5 years- this one might consume for another 5. This case is so complex; a series of murders here in Georgia so vile and so repulsive that I cannot look the other way. It is also pertinent, as there are men sitting on DEATH ROW right now who will be executed for murders I have come to believe they did not commit. But this is not the same thing as churning up dirt in Valdosta and hoping old men as they near death grow a conscience; namely Grim, the farmer in the dell and Einstein. I have done all that I can do for them already.

You don’t understand that, do you? Let me explain. I have given these men the chance to set themselves free. I have given law enforcement the golden ticket to put Charley’s murder to rest, snatch them out of their homes and give them the chance to set the record straight. Each day they refuse to confess, is another day closer to their demise and I would not want to be in their shoes for all the gold in the world. Can you imagine standing before the architect of the universe to explain their perversion and their greed? Not me. That is one eternal conversation I would never wish to have… for I know where it will lead them and I think each day they get older and closer to death- so do they.

The gift I gave them was the opportunity to confess their all in the here and now- to change their Karma. People have figured out who they are, so the cat’s really out of the bag already and the whispers will never end; the continual purchasing of the book by folks in and around that town continue to make sure of that. (BTW’s, thank you citizens of Valdosta and surrounding counties for your continued support of this book!) I did what I could to help you all, but Grim- you  and your cronies have written your own tickets to Hell and now all I can do is stand back and hope you’ve all packed enough Depends to last you each an eternity, ‘cuz your going to need them!

As for this next case…I warn you that as I begin to write about what has happened, you may wish to shield your eyes, keep a bucket to vomit in beside you and keep your ears open as you hear the faint rush of air rise from the throats of seven plus victims as they reveal the truth of who was there and how they died. This case is over 37 years old, but oh baby we are no where near finished with digging into the filth that pervaded this tiny town in Georgia, in 1977. In fact, we have just begun! If I am lucky, Charley will continue to help where and when he can from the other side, but for now…it is between the photos of dead, the lies of those still alive, the architect of the universe, and me.

What do stockings, high society, ancient Egypt, brutal rape and corrupt officials have to do with Columbus, Georgia?

Good question…

2/18/2014

They say in order to start over properly you must make a clean break…

Today it broke.

2/4/2014

Dreams have been ramped up of late; most recent and most disturbing was one from the other night after I received a rather odd communication.

The dream was rather crude, but perhaps necessary.

When the dream began, I was walking along the beach outside my house. It was a beautiful summer day- warm breezes, sunshine and a calm rippling effect upon the water. My phone jingled and when I looked down and saw the name, I paused. Certain I had already dealt with the situation enough, I closed my phone and continued on my walk. Apparently the universe thought otherwise, as suddenly I was standing alone in a room with just my phone. It continued to ring, so I finally gave up and listened to the message.

My mouth began to fill with acrid saliva and I began  drooling at the edges of my lips. I replayed the message a second time and with each word I gagged. Soon I was completely nauseous…so nauseous that I began to vomit. With each regurgitation, it brought forth a tape worm. Four times, four tape worms. Finally void of these four worms, my stomach stopped hurting and my head began to clear. Disgusted, I watched them squirm about on the table top and when I finally got my legs back under me…I threw them out a nearby window one by one. I never looked down to see where they landed or if they were still alive, I just slammed the window shut and then walked away.

I awoke startled and sat in the dark for a long time, trying to discern what message to take away- though it was fairly clear. Whatever the impetus, I was finally done with whatever had been bothering me. Was the message the tipping point? I believe it was. It was more than clear that I was shedding unwanted emotions, situations and/or individuals who had become parasitic by-products in my life. The number four was very symbolic, as was the opening and closing of a window.

Whatever its impetus, it has reminded me in a very real and very graphic manner, to release any emotions or situations in my life which have fed off my soul and drained me of personal energies.

So, do you have any situations, emotions or people in your life who have fed off your energies or efforts? If so…release them in whatever way necessary to help you… then slam the window shut… never look back and move on.

New opportunities are presenting themselves this month- be there when the window re-opens!

.

1/30/2014

You know how you are going along and you have a plan in place and so you follow the plan and then one day, you get something brought to you that halts you in your tracks- takes you by storm and changes your direction?

Well… I do.

Four days ago I was headed in one direction; then I received a contact through my web site and bam! Things are changing rapidly and I have to hold onto my hat, catch my breath  and grab a pair of running shoes so that I can keep up with where I am being led. And where am I being led? I cannot tell you yet, but dear God in heaven…could this state be any more corrupt?

Six nights ago I went to bed- asked for guidance, as I always do and was shown the profile of an older woman; stringy silver hair plastered against her head, with several strands dripping across her sallow cheeks. She was gray with the pallor of death and her eyes vacant and devoid of history- she reminded me of the painting, “The Scream.”

I awoke and thought to myself- “What does this have to do with Charley?”

Two days went by and then I received a contact/hit on my site.

One day after that I saw a crime scene photo.

It was the face of this same woman, only there was more to the photo that I will not- cannot share with you now.

Things happened this way with Charley too. I was writing one book and then suddenly, Charley got dropped in my lap and I was off on another direction.

Angels lead where the universe has intended us to be; my job is to follow.

Stay tuned- this is one trip you won’t want to get left behind.

Breathe, breathe…before the oxygen gets sucked from your lungs the way mine was!

1/21/2014

Uncharacteristically of late, the skin of the lake was stretched tight and still across the horizon and you could see the tinges of pink that embroidered each cloud as they rolled overhead, reflected in its surface. What is it they say? “Red sky at morning…sailor take warning!”

Like that sailor I have now been warned several times that I am placing myself in a very uncomfortable spot in the course of these Dixie Mafia investigations. To be certain, I academically understand the danger of metaphorically unearthing certain bodies that have lain dormant for decades and take great precaution to honor the wishes of anonymity for those who hesitantly follow down this same path with me. Please  know that I appreciate your candor and your singular bravery in sharing what you know…what you have seen and what you fear. Just as with Charley’s case, an entire township and its countrysides have been swallowed up in fear of retribution for decades and struggle to release themselves of the echo of fear.

But let me ask you very frankly, retribution of what?

In Charley’s case, the remaining ‘four in  flannel’ are now old men; sucking on dentures and pulling at their puds to pee. Their days of glory and causing folks to shudder is over and so I beg that the citizens of Valdosta to see these men now for what they are—geriatric a__holes who no longer possess the where-with-all to change their own soiled diapers, let alone terrorize an entire county. To be fair, they once ruled the seedier part of your town-but if that wasn’t your reality- they still had no power over you. Both you and they need to stop living in the past. Social Security is now their only security, don’t you see? Grim measures his Metamucil along with his morals and finds them both to be insufficient to clean out the stench of his rotting insides. Your fears are now his fears…why?

Do you think this man and his two other cronies wish to be seen as the crumbled, egotistical sycophants they truly are? No my dear readers-egos will not allow such! They want you to remember them as they were in their glory days- young, strong, ruthless and virulent. Nothing sucks the fun out a long awaited “perp walk” than a walker or a wheelchair now, does it Grim? I feel for you old pal. Once bright and shiny as your badge, you are both now, worn and tarnished. In fact, there was an article in an AARP magazine recently about one of Valdosta’s oldest friends from your hey-day…Omar Sharif, who used to fly there with Jack Palatin from Hollywood to play high stakes poker with your good old boy Sheriff , who incidentally died in prison. My how time flies when you’re becoming incontinent, doesn’t it, Grim?

You see, time was and is not necessarily your friend anymore old sport. Sure it bought you decades of false dignity and you had the chance to hide and shuffle your wealth from here to there…but did you get to spend any of  it? How about you, Einstein? That was a mighty healthy tax return in 1968, wasn’t it? If only the feds knew where all that money had come from! lol  But seriously boys, you had the glow of abuse and manipulation about you that smelled like pheromones to some and the audacity to lie to your wives about your fidelity and fake honor, while you corked everything but an empty wine bottle out of your pathetic need to dominate…but did that buy you any real manhood? Nope, your carnal lust and need for dominance bought your town  two corpses though- Jessica and Roxanne. So Valdosta…if not for yourselves- how about for them? Two girls go missing in your town in 1966 and nobody cares why? Nobody wants to ask the 47 year old questions of where they went…who was last with them…why were all the records of their existence erased and no funerals ever held? Dang, I’d be asking something if I knew that had happened in my town! You see, these are the questions that keep me up all night. I just can’t seem to let them go…too many reminders I guess.

Like the other day when I was having lunch with some retired law enforcement. They mentioned something from the book and we had a good laugh and I thought of you. Then two days later, my husband took me on a date and I thought of you again!  It was at the movies- the new Jack Ryan film? You see, it was in a really good chase scene and then suddenly… somebody pulled out a pair of bright and shiny brass knuckles with a blade at the end of it. I guess to beat and stab somebody- just like you used to. Good times, good times eh, Einstein? So much to remember…so much to prosecute!

Gosh it’s been fun to visit and reminisce with you and Grim and I hope you get the chance to share some of these stories with the local law real soon- they would really enjoy them! Wouldn’t that be swell! A pow-wow with your fraternal brothers! You could tell them all about the time Einstein beat the shit out of Roxanne and then you, Grim, pretended you didn’t know how she got into that lake and had to hide the scar under your left eye from your wife. Golly-bet they’d love that one! That was tense for a few days wasn’t it, Grim? Or what about the time Einstein beat the crap out of the MOT in the Daniel Ashleigh Hotel and left him for dead…Ahhhhh, the good old days!

Well, I’d love to sit and chat some more about the good old days in Valdosta, but right now I’m up to my tail end in gas cans and car bombs in Barrow and Jackson Counties in the 60’s and so have to run…But we’ll visit again soon you two old farts! Don’t die on me now!

You really should write down some of your escapades for your grandchildren and their grandchildren to enjoy…

Oh wait! I already did that for you!

Buy them the book- read them book- then call the law and ask them to finish the job they started 47 years ago! You can even help plug in a few of the holes I might have left. Forgot the title- just ask anybody in town- they know it!

THE THIN GRAY LINE: A TRUE CRIME INVESTIGATIVE MEMOIR by T.A. Powell

1/18/2014 (11:11 am)

I know when I am being asked to move forward when information continues to present itself, without my prodding or digging for it. Last night I was being given ideas for the opening for the next book and so at 3:37am in the morning I was making mental notes and then jotting them down in my notebook in my office, as I let the dogs out to howl at the moon and make their constitutional obligations. I continue to ask for guidance and ask that the right people and circumstances present themselves, so that I might move further on this project- while keeping my hand active in refining information and evidence from Charley’s. That being said, opportunities and interviews are being brought forth to explore and continue to embroider my hectic work and study schedule. Blocks of information that prompt me forward with new names and faces and compel me to expand my files and anecdotal resources for the next book: THE DEAD LINE: CONFESSIONS OF A DIXIE MAFIA ASSASSIN (Copyright 2009)

Again, the warnings go out that many people involved in these certain nefarious activities and multiple murders are still alive and that I am placing myself in an awkward and compromising position. I get that and yet…who will speak for these victims if nobody ever dares to help them bring their truth to the world?

How can we honor the dead if we bury the truth along with them?

Did I ask for this? Yes and no.

What I asked for was the chance to use my natural talents and passions to create something that would help bring honor to them and to be a unique voice in the universe. Charley helped me find the most authentic path in which to accomplish both and my dedication to such is supreme and without falter.

I am trusting that the universe is leading me to where it needs me to be.

Where is the universe leading you to be? What is it asking of you that you refuse to follow out of fear or arrogance?

THE DEAD LINE begins. One victim at a time.

1/14/2014

Note again the repeating numbers…that being said and now that I have your attention–let’s continue with our little lesson on blood spatter patterns which proves the impossibility of the “Suicide” classification on Charley’s DEATH CERTIFICATE… which is the reason I will NOT quit until it is changed.

According to the GBI Crime Lab Report in 1966, blood and other tissues related evidence was recorded as being retrieved from the front right window area of the car. If that were true, how did they do so in the rain that night and even more to the point…if the weapon that was placed, I mean, “found” under Charley’s belly was the actual weapon he supposedly used to kill himself…how did the quote, unquote “blood spatter” get on the windshield of his car 13 feet away?

You see, blood spatter from a high powered weapon- such as a gun, which produces high-velocity spatter. High-velocity spatter is generally less than 1mm in size; almost like a mist and the droplets being so small are unable to travel very far… so we have a problem Houston! You cannot shoot yourself 13 feet away from the vehicle and claim blood spatter from gunshot. However, if you are at the front right tire area of the vehicle and being held or forced into a bent over position at or just above the tire area… it is possible to have some sort of spatter. But that again presents a huge problem for these law folks then, doesn’t it? Gunshot spatter cannot travel 13 feet in the air to where Charley’s body was found lying. So without being obnoxious–just where the heck was he shot? Standing at the edge of the road, with his hat and flashlight like they wanted you to believe…or at the front right tire where he was being beaten and held while the shooter played a cozy little game of Russian roulette above his right ear?

Think…

Was it at the front right tire or 13 feet in front of the car, because my dear gentleman…try as you might to deceive all, you cannot have it both ways. Like my mother used to say, “You cannot be a little bit pregnant. You either are, or you are not!” And as for the pooling of blood? Pooling is formed from large drops and constant flow. That happens by gravity my dears, so his head was somewhere just above the pools of blood, but obviously leaning against something because there is a clear VOID PATTERN in the photos between each pool of blood and the victim’s head that cannot be denied! You cannot bleed out and have it jump eight inches in the air- in the pouring rain mind you, then hop in the air another six inches to a new landing place and then another four inches to make the rounds above your head and yet not from your head!

Anybody in law enforcement care to argue the point with me?

Anybody care to jump in the fray and help jump start another look at the photo evidence with me? You have the evidence in hand already…anybody game?

Feel free to let me know. You know how to find me.

Isn’t education a wonderful thing! I can’t wait to see what I learn next week!!!!

1/11/2014

Note: This message was inspired and written at 11:11 on 01/11/2014

Another moment that R likes to call an, “Ah-ha!” moments, that I like to call my, “Oh sh___” or even, “Holy sh___!”moments took place while I was reading an assignment for next week in my forensics books; specifically on analyzing blood patterns. Naturally whenever I encounter something that involves evidential elements of this case,  my mind rushes to  Charley and the crime scene photos, of which have not been shared with you out of respect for the family. In doing so, I discovered something that never directly occurred to me before… or rather that I knew something was not right, but could not come up with what exactly was wrong…until now!

If you have read my book, The Thin Gray Line, you know that early on in the process, I had an expert look at the crime scene photos to rule out suicide. As I was not happy with her determination, I had several other experts looked at them and keep them in their files as well for future reference. My first expert looked briefly at the pile and then announced, she could detect  no evidence of a void pattern and sans any other evidence, felt suicide was plausible…but that was wrong. She missed it completely!

As you know, I am obsessive about this case for many personal reasons and I have looked at these photos over a hundred times and while I have noted and talked incessantly about the disconnect between the pools of blood and to the victim …I never put it all together the right way till yesterday when it hit me light a ton of bricks that we had all missed the biggest clue to corroborate other testimony and timelines and it was staring at us in the face the whole time!

So yesterday I not only had an epiphany, I had an “oh sh_____!” moment  the size of Texas and then immediately got chills on my arm, because I had been asking Charley for days to bring me a new piece of information or insight to my attention to keep you all engaged so that we can finally get this thing rolling in the halls of law enforcement. As usual, I second guessed my own psychic ability to discern a message and so asked him to get whatever it was to R. As the universe continues to teach that I continue to develop and appreciate my own abilities… I had not thought that it would come through me and so dismissed it for a minute as insignificant information. That being said, let me explain what I am talking about.

Forensics teaches that a void pattern in the middle of a blood pattern is simply an area empty or clear of evidence; meaning either the flow of blood or the splatter of blood, has been interrupted because something or someone was blocking the continual flow or spray of either body fluids and/or blood before the victim expired.

In over 47 years, not one expert has ever made it a point to divine what is in those photos as a VOID, or what object could have created this VOID. But it was there all along…right there in front of us in another photo.

Inspired, I went outside this morning in the rain and tried to measure and calculate the amount of tire tread that would have had contact with the road that night. Taking into account that I drive a Cooper and Charley drove a huge 4 door, Ford sedan and that his tires were easily two times larger than what are on my car…it all made perfect sense. As stated in both the beginnings of this blog and in the book, during R’s first reading of the murder that night, Charley said he was at the front right tire when he was shot- felt the second blow to the head. Again, this location is backed up by witness testimony that the first witness which passed Charley’s body heading to work at the paper mill, (which we now suspect as being staged as well, by virtue of his known, long term association to another key player in C’s murder) stated his [Charley’s] body was at the front right tire as he slowed down and that the man slumped at the tire did not speak when asked if help was needed…supports this observation that the front right tire was not only involved, but the object of  obstruction of blood flow as Charley lay bleeding out before them. Thus, another crucial piece of evidence that was tampered with at the scene.

So how do we get the body in front of the car, but near the pools of blood without tire tracks through the evidence?

Another piece of evidence offers us a clue. According to authorities, public  news papers and the widow’s journal, there was quoted statements about a tow truck having been seen and used in the crime scene area that night pulling out a vehicle. So who’s vehicle was Charley sat at? And who moved this vehicle from the are and/or at least repositioned it on the highway to stage the rest of the crime scene? And why wasn’t every local towing business brought in for questioning?

I wish I could show you the all of the blatant discrepancies in these photos, but it is not necessary at this time. Proper authorities have copies and/or access to copies of all these photos and have an obligation to re-review them again to dispel or confirm my findings. Remember; there is no statute of limitations on murder in the state of Georgia and we should be demanding this case be prosecuted according to the laws of the land.

So officials- both local and federal…let’s get going. I ask you to either prove me right or prove me wrong, but please get off your collective pedestals, assign the resources necessary and prove something about this case and your dedication to the laws you have been commissioned to uphold!

Maybe it’s the rain or maybe it’s the thought of another year passing by that makes me grow weary of doing your homework for you… I have enough of my own to do this semester, thank you very much!

Now, back to my books…