As I am writing the book, I am constantly required to go back through my notes and back through the clues. So many have your name attached to them, Grim. I cannot imagine what it must feel like knowing that for 46 years you have gotten away with murder, but that one day very soon someone will knock on your door and say…
“Mr. Reaper? You’re under arrest… ”
When it happens… will you keep copy of the newspaper article for me?
Thanks!
8/4/11
You know how
I collect all the ridiculous things that float up on my shoreline? Well, I now have
a rather eclectic collection of gifts from the lady of the lake. Let’s see… I
have twenty seven bobbers, various shells that have caught my eye, half a
fishing rod, a pair of goggles, one street lamp globe-(which I returned to its
rightful owner three coves over) a jar of fish bait goop, a shoe, various
pieces of decking and Styrofoam dock material, a 2 Mile marker, a large orange
road safety barrel, a worm bait, a lure bait, various dead fish- (including my
first Gar) and yesterday my husband found something washed up on shore I’ve
never gotten before!
So, what do
you think it means when the cosmos sends you a possum?
Hmmmmm…. Could
it mean that somebody is playing dead? Or that someone is really dead… or
about to dead?
The possum was
pretty convincing. He didn’t move for a whole day, so we buried him.
What do you
think, Grim? Getting nervous?
You must be.
Why else
would they show you as moving money around? Shifting it from one place to
another. Hard to keep track of all that hush money and pay-offs. Not easy to
hide that kind of unsubstantiated cash flow? Just imagine…All those illegal
profits just circling various bank vaults like the undulating currents that
brought me my dead possum! Can’t wait to see what the lady of the lake brings
me next!
Oh… and if
you’re planning to go on an extended trip somewhere? Think twice.
You know
they’ll find you. And even if they can’t…
I can!
(Happy
Birthday to my husband!)
“Three days… three days… three days” they whisper in her ear. Someone is failing. Someone who has information who can no longer hold on. Someone who needs to disgorge before it is too late.
A feather fell before me yesterday on the shore.
Last night they told me:
“Go to page 14… page 14… page 14. Go to the 7th line down from the top… read.”
Then they followed with:
“Page 21… page 21… page 21… read.”
I went to page 14 and page 21. It talked about a Phillips 66 gas station, the people by the river and the phone call made from the farmer with the cheese cutter the night Charley died.
Mentioned the men of WoW…not WOW.
Understand?
They talked about Carlos. They talk about the innocence. They talked about the set-up and the money he was paid to keep an eye on things. Then they said:
“Open the envelope…. the white envelope… just open it.”
I will.
7/30/11
Ok… so some days you hit pay dirt and some days you just hit dirt. On those days in my
case, it generally rains and I just end up muddy! Thus, my efforts on the literary end of things have produced much the same. I know you are scratching your head and saying to yourself… ‘Now what is she talking about?’ and that’s ok. Just know that today I got muddy- without pay and we shall move on. Or, maybe I am premature in my assessments and Charley has something else up his sleeve I have yet to divine! I look at his face for clues.
So my gray eyed wonder… what have you got brewing in your little brain now? I can feel it in the air, swirling about your 8×10 head on my desk. Your Mona Lisa smile is making mischief in the cosmos- I can feel it and it makes me unnerved.
Charley is up to something and I am curious to see what he has in store for me. Why? Because a cardinal passed in font of me this morning and I have not seen one in weeks. A small feather fell before me the afternoon before and another black cat (who did not cross- but sat anxious) crouched at the bend in the road as I drove by on my way home from work last night. Waiting… waiting…warning. Maybe it was the black cat from Julie’s Halloween story. Anyway…as Mercury is about to go retrograde on me again, I feel as though I spin wheels and produce no yarn to warrant such effort. Each day, I write, I read and each day I wait for
confirmations. Exhausted both emotionally and psychically the other night, I opted just to write a short blog and not to work on the book. The very next morning on my way to work, I passed a church whose sign read:
“What are
you waiting for? They need you now!”
Now, while hundreds of people I am certain passed that very same sign that morning… I am equally as certain that it did not scream at them in the same way it had at me! Let me translate for you dear reader…“Get back to work T. A.! Charley,
Jessica, Roxanne and the Mot need you now!” So at the risk of alienating family and losing sleep, I returned to my template that night and tried to move forward. As you know, I have been diligent in my daily exercise of literary muscles and kept pace to the best of my human ability… but to what end?
Why can’t
the sign scream at me, “Hey you-Good job! Keep going. I got your back and you are ten seconds from liberations meant to ease your stress and further your dreams!”
Now that’s a freaking sign I can get into!
Instead, like rotting carrots dangling in the wind before the waning rabbit- Charley baits me with cryptic quotes and
prognostications that I know he understands, but I in my primitive intellect cannot always translate with absolute understanding and conviction. So let me think aloud and let’s see what comes through.
Charley
says…
“…the 19th
by the river…”
I read the line over and over. I look into those eyes and I can feel him telling me, “Come on kiddo. You know what this means. Think… think! The 19th– get it?” and so I try.
“Is this
back in 1966?” I ask.
He smiles,
but doesn’t say a ____________ thing. I hate that about him sometimes!
I repeat it
over and over– out loud this time.
“The 19th by the river… the 19th by the river… the 19th…”
“OK. Let’s assume it was the 19th of… what? September maybe? September 19th,
1966?” I ask. He ignores me and allows me to process.
Something happened on the 19th by the river. There is only one river in this equation. The river that separates Brooks County from Lowndes County. The river where Charley’s body was found…the Withlacoochee River which acted as border between their equal corruption. What happened there that night, Charley? Who was there with you? Tell me Charley! Who was there?
My muse bids me to think about such an ethereal calendar and then I remember Hazel. God love
that lady!
Curious now, I scramble to get her journal and then jump between Hazel’s journal and this
blog. She mentions a day later in September where several women whose husband’s worked with Charley had come to her house to visit and stayed for coffee. She wondered after the fact if they had originally come to tell her about Charley
and G, but chickened out. There is also the mention of Charley telling Hazel he had coffee with several folks that
day… G being one of them!
So again I ask the 8×10 again to talk to me. “The 19th by the river…huh?” Hmmmm. Next in Hazel’s journal she writes about Charley’s Birthday being on September 21st and what she had given him for his Birthday- but in that same vein of information she writes about the lighter that appeared with him days before! The lighter that the Federal officer’s claimed G gave to him. Is this where and when you met her for the lighter Charley???? Or did someone else give you another lighter, because on October 6th you bought another lighter from the Morris Pawn shop for $3.00? And that lighter was in a bag that the Regional Supervisor of ATTD
(ATF at the time) was frantic to get back from Hazel. Infact he demanded she return it to him! Odd, huh? Why would a man who works in Moultrie worry about a lighter bought from a pawn shop in Valdosta?? Had he been there recently… or maybe somebody else had been to Valdosta who lost a lighter that was exactly the same as the one Charley bought… for evidence???
Hmmmm……This lighter just keeps coming back into vogue!
I remember the river and the areas just beside and below the bridge. I went there searching for something that might render a clue or an impression. Julie and I actually drove down to the river’s edge and got out and walked. There is a trail that you can drive your car down on. Rutted with the tracks of too many redneck Cadillac’s, it boasts little more than pockets of muddied gravel and obstacles of larger stones…lying hidden beneath the tree line and bridge… it is mostly out of view.
What happened there Charley?
Tell me… I cannot process without more information.
The day has now turned as gray as your yes, my coffee is hot and the music inside my headset mellow and inviting and though I would rather curl up like a small kitten on my couch and purr beneath a comfortable blanket… you bait with those eyes and I
am recommitted to you once again. Dear friend, occasionally I must remind you that I on the other side of your veil frustrate at broken words and faded photographs. I do not understand it all and try as I might to keep both faith and head above such troubled waters- I reach for a lifeline I can hold onto and feel solid about.
Talk to me
Charley… talk to me!
July28, 2011
Last night I spent several hours at my desk writing. Needing a moment to stretch, I took the dogs out for a short walk. The air was ripe and balmy and huge clouds had billowed high above their lower banks so that only the tips of 3 or 4 were embroidered in tinges of brilliant gold and burnt sienna. It was almost biblical in its expression and to compliment… the fire flies had begun their nightly dance. As I stood there and watched for the 4-legged one’s to do their business… a firefly flew right in front of my face and lit. It startled me so, and my immediate and natural reaction was to bat it away.
No sooner had I made contact than I tried to retreat. Nonetheless, my knee-jerk reactions had set the little creature off course just the same. With remorse, I apologized. A little more than a week ago, Charley appeared to me for the first time. Having never had that brand of psychic encounter, I did much the same. Statrled, I screamed and batted at the ethereal figure before me. Later when I consulted R, I understood it to be Charley in the exact form I had been speaking to for over two years now- the silhouette of the G-man in my 8×10 on my writing desk.
So I now apologize to you, dear friend. I was frightened- that’s all. Like the sudden appearences of fireflies, I must learn that the path and the timing is of your choosing…not mine. Come back. I shall wait again for the chance to view such wondrous transformation with as much joy as when I see the fireflies of my youth.
Have a good day Charley!
Message from Charley:
The 19th by the river…
Jessica’s father was tied to__________________. State Farm guy.
The curtain will fall…
The answer is coming…
The person who did the make-up…
_____________’s name in the news paper…
Do you know whose name that would be?
I do!
July 26,
2011
A little
over a year ago, my husband almost died, my daughter got married and I heard
about Roxanne for the first time. A year ago I promised I would bring her
murderers to justice…
A little
over a year ago, my husband almost died, my daughter got married and I heard
about Jessica for the first time. A year ago I promised I would bring her
murderers to justice…
A little
over a year ago, my husband almost died, my daughter got married and I heard
about the MOT for the first time. A year ago I promised I would bring his murderers
to justice…
A little
over a year ago, my husband almost died, my daughter got married and I figured
out who the shooter was. A year ago I promised Charley I would bring his
murderer to justice…
My husband
is alive…
My daughter
is married…
Roxanne is
dead…
Jessica is
dead…
The MOT is
dead…
Charley is
dead…
Grim is
nervous… and so are most of the people involved who are still alive.
A year ago I
made a promise.
Justice will
be served… and soon!
July 23,
2011
It takes a
village…
This case
has gone from a small-town mystery to a suspected statewide conspiracy
involving people from as far south as Valdosta,
to the northern outskirts of Atlanta.
It is even plausible that it involved participants just across the
Georgia/Florida border. It may have only taken one man to shoot Charley… but
it took him and several others to stage the crime scene. Add that to the 4 in
flannel who did their best to snuff out the lives of two young women and beat another
man so brutally that he died of a heart attack…. toss in a handful of several
local law and perhaps federal law enforcement officers and sprinkle with a few
state court officials who averted their eyes and kept their yaps shut… and
you have a small- but exceptionally corrupt village!
While I have
never been a fan of Hilary Clinton… she may have gotten this one right! It
appears it really does take a village after all! Who knew?
Ahhhhhhh….
but that’s just the beginning!
It may have only
taken a village to commit these murders, but it has taken an entire statewide
conspiracy and 46 years to cover them up! Say what you will- you gotta admire
professionals and after all, they did do a might spiffy job of this for quite
sometime now.
Isn’t it a
shame they’re all about to find out- it didn’t work? Course… that’s just the
ones still alive; the dead ones already got away with murder- though I’m
betting they didn’t once they got to the other side. Karma’s a real bitch! Back
to the live ones- think how old you all are now. Hmmmm… Spend your golden years in prison!
Sounds like a really bad travel ad or even better, a really good title for
another book, huh? Even still- sucks for them. You build a family- a career- a
legacy… all based on lies. What will your wives and ex-wives think? What will
your children and your grandchildren think of what you did to another human
being? Most of your cronies are dead- they knew but they held their tongues
till the graves. You’ve got no one left to feign your innocence to- but the
innocent themselves. How will you explain yourselves to them?
I killed
this man because he knew things about me I couldn’t bear the world to know? Say it with me, Grim.
“O.S.T.R.I.C.H.”
Well… my dear lads- the world will know now and very soon. Charley’s calendar
is running short of pages to turn.
A riddle for
you!
What does
the date July 21st, the Grim Reaper and Albert Einstein all have in
common?
You wouldn’t
believe me if I told you… but I will… soon!
She whispered in his ear…
‘Tell the truth. Your father is dying… tell the truth…do it.”
July 21st, 2011
Exhausted from writing… I went to bed very late last night, only to be woken an hour later by a dark ethereal figure hovering at my bedside.
Later, my mother appeared to me in a dream and looked frightened.
Yesterday a large black feather felll before me and a black cat crossed the road on my path home. If I were a betting man (LOL) I would wear a cross, say my prayers and not go outside tomorrow morning…
But you know me!
I’ll let you know how tonight goes and then make my decision after that!!!
Until later then…
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