Brownstonelit's Blog

5/5/2014

The numerical significance of this date: 5/5 or 55 itself signals change…significant change and the passing of another year.

This week will bring opportunities for inspiration, redirection and being guided to where you need to be. But not just the gentle guidance of the cosmos in the sense that you will get a good or bad feeling about something…but more that if you are willing to release all expectations of outcomes with complete surrender, trusting in the divine… those who have crossed over and the architect of the universe  will take over the steering wheel of your life and move you in the definite direction of where you need to be and what you need to be doing.

Will you be brave enough to let them? Will I?

Good question and a great experiment, so I’m in.

This week has felt all about surrender and loss of momentum. The end of my theatre season closed well, but the due diligence of hard work always brings the inevitable dregs of  exhaustion and the parting shot of a sickly cast- a kick ass cold that has brought me to my knees.  A small inconvenience paid for a successful run and a brilliant cast. Though illness has subdued both spirit and  navigation, I have saved enough energy to send up small prayers and rockets of desire into the cosmos- asking for intervention. According to the birthday ritual, I have now entered the final pinnacle, or rather the harvest cycle of my life and suddenly realized that perhaps this has been the necessary delay for the jumping off point in this case. The final pinnacle or harvest cycle of one’s life begins at 56, so is this why this case is being brought to me at this time ? Think my dear readers…the title of this book is called, THE HARVEST: A True Crime Investigative Memoir of the Columbus Strangler. (Copyright 2014) How else could I understand the desperation and the vulnerability of these victims, if  I have never experienced the vulnerability and insecurities of these years myself… the physical challenges of getting older as a woman, being post menopausal…being more aware of being a less threatening target and yet ignorant that a sexual crime could be focused towards someone my age or older?

For that the past few years I have looked forward to this birthday, knowing that this would be my time…a time of truly coming into my own spirit and power… of owning every moment in my life… of being on the cutting edge of a new technique or way of self expression. It was written in the stars astrologically… in my numerology and my aspirations. The numbers said not to buy a home for this cycle or tie myself down with heavy long-term obligations, as success would dictate  being foot loose and fancy free- traveling at the drop of a hat for speaking engagements- book signings- carving out new mental landscapes for others to follow and being on the leading edge of new and unorthodox ways in crime solving.

And so how does this wondrous new and epic cycle begin? With sniffles and sneezes and lackluster enthusiasm for the changes age brings to the female body! So, not the gripping introduction I had hoped for or anticipated. So far, 5 days into my pinnacle cycle has left me uninspired, out of breath and impatient for this dynamic new set of circumstances to emerge and whisk me away.

A few days ago I turned 56, closed my eyes and made a wish. Yesterday, I sat in a car while my husband drove to a Kroger for more cold medicine. My dynamic new image in the rear view mirror was  in direct contrast to the woman I had dreamed. What I saw instead was a woman who had sneezed and coughed her chest muscles and nose into raw existence- a woman who  slumped exhausted in a seat next to him- sunglasses askew and a wrinkled  Kleenex stuffed in each nostril to keep from dripping.

Last night I said a prayer, asking for more Benadryl, guidance and clarity — not to mention a do-over for my Birthday. I also prayed for a renewed sense of spirit and a regeneration of passion for this case- the kind of passion that drove me to constant distraction with Charley’s. This morning I realized that perhaps that was a ridiculous prayer to pray. The Benadryl I could supply for myself- but there are no do-over’s in life…nor Birthdays. My birthday was what it was and the passion for Charley’s case was all consuming, because I was desperately hiding from my own life through his death. I am not that person anymore. My life, my world and my sense of self is in a completely different state today than it was 5 or 6 years ago and so minus the desperation- the experience cannot be the same either. In those years I was still bereft- lost without the tangible hands of parents to guide. In this day, I know they are but a thought away- that they are wherever I am- in every and any moment I invite them to join in. Today I pass this off as a small thing- but it is not- it is huge.

Last night I was reminded how huge.

Enjoying the lull in coughing spasms, I lay watching the Long Island Medium with my husband and my clogged nostrils and her readings at the Cherry Lane theatre in New York. I was just about to  doze off when the woman being read convulsed in sobs at spirit’s revelations and she kept saying, “How could she have known that? There’s no way she could have known that…”  My husband made a similar comment and I was immediately caught off guard.

“How can you say that after everything that has happened over the past 5 years…everything you have seen and heard through R…everything that has happened with Charley? How can you not believe this is for real?”

“It’s just so hard to believe sometimes…that’s all.”

“That’s all? How can you still question any of this…how can you not believe?”

With that, I watched the rest of the show in silence, reminded how others still have a hard time accepting all this. But more importantly, I was reminded that when the angel numbers say things like, ” … because of your child-like faith…”– that is exactly what they mean. For me, this is the same as saying that each morning the sun will rise, or that my eyes are brown like my father’s…this is accepted and known. I no longer question, if indeed I  ever truly did question the continuity of life after death and the ability to sense those who have left us behind.  My father once said to me that the greatest gift he could give me, beyond life itself was faith. It only took 56 years, dad… but I finally found and understand it. Faith is knowing. Ironically enough, according to Numerology, the challenge for this final pinnacle of my life is the same-FAITH.

All this to say, that just as soon as snot is not my constant companion…I plan to dive back into my life with absolute abandon and become the woman I thought would magically appear on my 56th Birthday. As I look in the mirror I know she is there, hidden beneath the puffy eyes, the worn T-shirt and the ponytail. She’s the woman who at 45 beat a life- threatening tumor, at 46 wrote and published over nine plays and then at 47 decided to become a theatre director so she could produce them. She’s the woman who at 48 decided to start writing  books, then at 49 to investigate cold case murders and at 52 went back to school to get a degree in forensics so she could walk the walk. She’s the woman at 54 who got the ATF in Washington to re-open a 46 year old murder case, at 55 published her findings in a 436 page book and who at 56 still has the confidence to put her heart and reputation on the line every time she picks up a pen or plugs her nostrils with Kleenex.

She’s a tough old bird who understands that some days it’s better to have dessert first and save the vegetables for a salad on another day…laughs at easily at herself as she does at others and is still the lady who refuses to let life to happen to her…but rather, demands life in her happenings! True, this week she’s  a little older, a little wiser…perhaps a little thicker here and there with age, but she’s my best buddy and I wouldn’t want to face the rest of my existence or this next case without her!

Happy Birthday week to me.

4/22/2014

Yesterday I heard my angel song in full, which I have not heard in months and so was looking forward to a message. This morning I got a message that a group was asking for the Moores Ford bridge Massacre of 1946  be re-opened. My first book, The Danburg Diary was about this unsolved FBI murder from Monroe, Georgia. Was this the message– the good news? That this case may finally see the light? That’s what I pray for Charley’s case as well– that light be shown into the darkest corners of their vile souls and justice brought to those still living.

Still reeling from the Columbus Strangler victim’s readings, I continue to  go over the impressions presented. There were 7 women who the police declared official victims of the strangler,an 8th survived, but there was another woman who was killed– violated and stabbed to death in her own home– a woman who has stepped from her grave to help solve this case. This woman too was a victim of the same killer- different MO, but tortured by the same killer…this is her Karma…to speak from the grave for herself and the others.

Shall I share with you Columbus some of the things these women whispered from the other side of the veil? Shall I tell you what and who you should still be looking for that was overlooked the first time? Some people perhaps still alive? Forget the crap about the man on DEATH ROW as your killer- he is not. The victim’s very clearly reveal that their killer was a white male and if the court officials handling this case would allow the DNA testing of semen found at the crime scene(s) to be tested against him- the public would know there is no match. No match to the dental mold created from bite marks on the breasts of one of the elderly victims. There it is again… the mention of teeth…dental molds… dentists.

So let’s focus on why those involved in the prosecution would not want such to happen? Why is there a protracted stall against this? Forget the legal hoops being swung about- ask the real question of why? Who is being protected or who profits most by this silence and public denial? Look at the history of the people involved in this case…go back, way back in this case. Who was there from the start? Who are their relatives… friends…colleagues? Who rose through the ranks suddenly after? Who became judges and lawyers? Who suddenly fell into other high profile positions in the rush of silence about the facts that followed the conviction of Carlton Gary?

Justice is blind, but the victims of this/these serial killer(s) are not.

What did the victims’ see?

From the reading:

“…A young male (not black) with dark brown hair, very thick hair combed over to the side…pleasant looking, charming personality…first, middle or last name beigns with the letter ___. (I will not share this just yet, but know the letter.) …there is an association with a tennis racket- very significant…he is obsessed with teeth…always with a toothpick in his mouth after eating…the toothpick was a habit…cleaning his teeth… afraid of leaving food in between them…a germ-a-phobe- always wore gloves at the crime scenes…very cautious about leaving anything behind- no prints…no prints…”

So who are we looking for?

“…Predominantly the young male, but on more  than one occasion another male assisted him, there were two males there– 2 times…they would meet at the end of a dirt road- no lights- no people there- they would murder and then go back to the house- sit on the brown couch of the two story house with a greenhouse in the back and smoke pot and relive the acts…”

Ask any forensic psychologist on this case and they will tell you the suspect would fit…a young white male–a sexual deviate with emotional issues involving women and/or sadistic tendencies towards women. Potentially sexually abused as a child. So where does the second person come into play? Another male, sexually inadequate perhaps who got off on watching… or got off on the act of violation–could not do it for himself, but wanted to watch…the strangulation.

What else did the women have to say?

“…The nylons were a fixation- a calling card, if you will…he was well protected– knew things about the others in the community–nobody would call him out- nobody could afford to call him out, lest he call them out…nobody could afford the public to know about what he knew about them…”

What did the women hear as their last breath escaped their crushed windpipes?

“…Always the same 3 words…each victim stepped forward…the same 3 words whispered as the male sat atop their sternum, breaking the brittle bones under his weight…the words he whispers…the words they whisper…it is of occult…sounds Latin or Egyptian in nature… they are meant as sacrifices… the older ones who are closer to death…their guilt is less for taking them out…”

Chew on this for a while Columbus, I will be back.

4/19/2014

Ten days ago I asked the female victims of the Columbus Strangler to step forward and find a way to communicate.

Yesterday was Good Friday and yes…it was a good Friday because these women finally found their voice. Their collective voice was channeled through my dear friend and colleague R, and oh– the pain of what these women experienced at the hands of this man/these men is heartbreaking. Did I say men? Yes… why? Because even though several of the murders were committed by one man- another man accompanied on several occasions.

Now listen up, Columbus.

Were any of these men black, as the Columbus Police department charged?

No. Neither of these men were black.

Not one of these women expressed such, though they had much to say about them.

So where did the fingerprints come from that connected the black man now on DEATH ROW with this case? Not from the killer(s)…they wore gloves. Yes, gloves…he/they were very meticulous about leaving evidence behind: the main killer was a germ-a-phobe- obsessive compulsive- a perfectionist.

So again, I ask–where did the fingerprints from this black man come from?

I suggest you ask the Columbus Police from that era- they can tell you.

And why so many years later are we no closer to the truth?

Same as in Charley’s case…FRATERNAL PROTECTION.

The killer knew things about a great many powerful folk back then- saw things they participated in- knew of their particular sexual habits, perversions  and persuasions. Remember, 1977 was a very tough time for homosexuals to be open about their sexual bent. It was no different in Columbus- in fact, it may have been even worse for those who were tortured within their own skin. Most were married, while lusting after something or someone else.

So where did they go to scratch such itches…to hide such carnal desires…to dip into and explore their own debauchery?

Want the address?

Stay tuned…this is about to start heating up.

One of the killers is dead, so that leaves one still alive, Columbus!

He who is left likes riddles and ciphers…enjoys the occult…hides in plain sight and walks among you. Nay- glorifies himself among you and you celebrate his notoriety out of ignorance.

If you are reading this…what were the three words spoken as the victims were strangled and slipping into death?

That’s right- three words- every time. As you sat upon their chests, crushing the life out of them you whispered these words to each and each victim whispered them back to R.

****

Who could know such other than the dead and they that committed the murders?

****

Think the incantations and impressions and expressions of the ancient occult are only bantered about on the Discovery Channel?

Guess again, Columbus.

Here’s a clue for those truly in the know…

Who collected the porcupines?

The answer?

That’s for only a chosen few to know for right now…but in time, Columbus…as I build this case…all shall know.

4/9/2014

The universe works in strange and mysterious ways and I am always amazed at the synchronicity in my life. Yesterday I felt the shift begin from inaction to action and when I made that internal decision to move forward and took a definite action- the universe responded. Last night I happily heard from R- without personal prompt. Just before I went to bed- I heard the very end of my angel song and knew the wheels had been finally released to move ahead. I have not heard my angel song in many months and my joy at hearing it was amplified by the hollow void left behind in its lengthy absence. Not that the universe has not been communicating its intentions to me all along, it’s just that maybe I was not listening as clearly as needed or that there were things necessary to revisit and clear before a new path could be carved into my mental landscape.

So here we are folks, at the top of the hill, looking out over the rail to the other side f the valley…many of you will begin to see 555, if indeed you have not been seeing it all along these past few weeks. Take note- it is the universe sending you a message-hinting and alerting you of the great impending change upon us, both within the world, as well as within your personal domain. Are you thinking of really doing something wonderful with your life? Are you more restless this Spring than other seasons before? Thinking of moving…changing jobs…changing your path, your partner…changing yourself? Look within for the next few weeks- discern what it is you truly want. Recognize the difference between what you desire and what you only tolerate. Be honest about what is no longer acceptable in your life and what it is that you wish. Go big or go home! You cannot complain about the lack of change or opportunities  in your life, if indeed you do not create the opportunities you seek and are not the agent of that desired change. Own what it is you what- your talents and your gifts- then share them with the world. Not every writer will achieve the fame of John Grisham or Stephen King of lore- but you have a story to tell and a truth to be heard, and you need to recognize that you were not sent to be a replacement for either of them- you were meant to usher in your own fame. Each of us has a mission. Though I had an inkling as a child, it took me half a century more to recognize mine. Now it is here and at 55, you could say that it may not be worth the effort- but I assure you it is because it is that very half a century more that brought me the experience and depth of character to be able to accomplish it. Be a late bloomer if you will- but bloom nonetheless!

Now-make the decision to go after your dreams and move forward and do not look back! Another series of numbers to look for is 999- this means the ending of one chapter of your life and the start of another! Embrace this new chance to bring yourself closer to who you really are and what it is that the universe has asked you to contribute to the world. Be authentic-without hesitation and without compromise.

Letting go of the past allows other things, people and opportunities to enter your life. I will not lie to you- some of these changes will feel like death and you will look to the stars and wonder what it is yo have done to deserve such. Simply take a deep breath and remember- you are the agent of change-not the victim of change. The universe can bring your dream job, only if the other is no longer occupying that space. The perfect home can only become available to you when you decide to sell and leave your current one…love can only enter an open heart.

What does all this have to do with solving a case? Everything, my dear readers…because if my attentions and my energies are being spent all over the map, I cannot focus on what spirit needs me to see and that is why I often speak to myself through you and this blog… to remind myself that I need only place the intention, divine a plan and then trust that my efforts will be rewarded or redirected as needed to achieve the highest good for all involved. I cannot affect what I refuse to work for and so it is important to clear the fog of daily living from my eyes, my heart and my head so that I can be of one mind with spirit. It takes everything to do what we do and to enter the ring unprepared, it to accept failure before the fight begins. Life is not for the meek…existence is! There is a process to everything…and I must trust in the process, trust in information I cannot readily see and defend what it is I wish to be eventually seen…justice! Soon the victim’s will have their collective say and can help direct to the true killer(s).

The game is now afoot Columbus and the men who sit in cells in Jackson, may now have a chance to have their truths known. Again, it is not my place to assign their guilt or innocence- but to tell you of what I have learned- what I can verify and perhaps even what can be proven in a court of law.

The dead have a right to their story and those seven women have a lot to say.

To them I say…

I am listening- you know how this works. Step forward and tell me what you know, what you saw, what it is you need the world to know.

4/8/2014

Today I struggle…in fact, I have been struggling for weeks now trying to find proper footing in this (1977 Columbus Strangler) case. I have scheduled interviews and picked up additional research this past weekend, but feel there is a block before me that keeps me from moving forward. Astrologically it makes sense, as this month is full of planetary pressures, detours and odd alignments amongst the heavenly bodies, but there is something more that keeps me feeling I am being held back.

This is a matter of timing- something is not ready to be known or to be discovered. Very often the universe places me in a holding pattern just before  a stream of information begins. Stuck in the 12th house, there are secrets that wait to be revealed or a sudden epiphany of sorts. I continue to do the metaphysical work required to keep up with it all and try to remain open, but there is something almost palpable that prevents information from flowing right now. Best guess is that I stand at the precipice of something lager than I may be able to take in all at once. I need to find the right door to walk through- the right key that unlocks the mysteries of the dead- the victims. They ask me not to over think things and if you know me- you know that that is not a possibility. This is my construction- my process…thus my eternal frustration! lol

I feel the need to reach out to R and see what’s happening in the cosmos. Dreams of late have been odd and revealing; parents and people from the past coming forward to revisit issues or dramas, or send messages.

Charley has been active lately as well, with numerous visitations and signs of his presence and it is comforting as I have missed his gentle  guidance. In fact, frustrated by recent delays, I had asked for him to make his presence known. Charley as always, answers my requests in the most unique and playful kind of ways.  Remember the  previously mentioned meeting to garner research? Well, there is someone who has done a great deal of research on this case and since we live in different cities, I suggested a more central location to exchange materials. So yesterday we drove to a large shopping  mall well over an hour away from my home. As I waited outside the specific restaurant, I realized we were 30 minutes early. Tired of standing in the wind and rain, I noticed a shop behind me which had a great sale going on. Since I had hinted about wanting a new purse for my impending birthday- I took great delight in searching  the window display and pointing out options to my husband. Being the consummate sweetie he is, my husband took note, noted  the sale sign and told me to choose which one I wanted for an early birthday gift. Somewhat soggy, I happily skipped through the door and since my contact was still 20 minutes away, I leisurely searched rack upon rack for just the right bag. Women understand this meticulous and ridiculous method of  scrutiny, as a purse is a very personal possession.

A purse, like a book cover says a great deal about what you do and who you are. You’ve seen my book covers- I am neither predictable nor canned. I’m also not the kitschy, flamboyant color or trendy kind of gal who changes bags each holiday or season…nor the teacher with the cutesy little flowery fabric bags or utilitarian satchel…I’m also not the woman who carries the bare essentials of her life in a wallet sized clutch. I live large and so need the larger, saddle bag carry it all with me kind of purse and just as designed-found the perfect bag to do so. Beautifully colored saddle leather, large and classic design with toggles- it fit the bill to perfection. Joyously I took my prize to the counter. Dutifully my husband puled out his wallet and paid, as I salivated over the new currier for my life went into a  large multicolored plastic bag.

Enter Charley…

It wasn’t until I got outside the store that I realized the name of the shop plastered across the bag and the top of the receipt: Charming Charlie!

How cute and wonderful at the same time that Charley was part of an early Birthday gift! Tickled that he had again found a playful way to remain constant- I smiled to myself and said a small thank you to him under my breath.

Grateful for the universal nod of eternal connections, my husband and I made our way back to the designated meeting spot and went from there. My contact arrived and over dinner delivered a plethora of information about this case and the research she has done thus far. It was an impressive docket and we discussed it over and over until I was satisfied I had it down. Back at home, I took the foundation of information needed to move forward and brought it into my office for further digestion.

I have done this enough to know that when the universe holds an unseen bar across my chest to delay…and/or a veil across my eyes to disguise or hide something, it is because there is something yet to come and I am being asked to wait and stay still till it arrives or makes itself known. Things in the cosmos are happening behind the scenes and actions now may only frustrate others or frustrate myself in the process. Everything in the tarot and astrology this month is about moving forward…that the worse is now behind us. It is a 6 month, so the universe begs us to move forward with confidence and speed after the 15th of the month. I do not know about you, but I am weary of petty drama and negative energies that swirled about and darn near swallowed folks in March. I am eager and fearful of the changes coming- but know that they are necessary to fulfill my dreams. I must listen to my intuition…

This second half of the year is meant for discovery, choosing between your ego and your higher self, standing in your truth and sticking with a decision or guided pathway. Once you have made a choice about the direction of your life- your path- once that decision is made- stand firm and do not look back. Stay true to your higher self and do not waste your energies on worries and other people’s drama, as they are ego’s umbilical cords to negativity and fear. Archangel Michael can help you cut the ties to ego and not to fear that  decisions made are wrong. The universe is bringing you something unexpected- a gift- something that you could not have anticipated or recognized from the point of ego.

This is why I feel I must wait until I have a more clear directive on this case…What is divine guidance and what is clouded ego or fear? I need to ruminate about what I have learned thus far about this case, track further what I need to discern and be at peace with the pace of this process. Experience has taught I  know what it is I need to do to get to where I need to be and how best for me to get there, but ambivalence blocks the way. Charley held my hand and was my guide the first time round- now he encourages that I stand on my own two feet and own the  process in this case.

While I have much-I patiently wait on a particular piece of information that takes this case from the histrionic narrative of the tome, The Big Eddy Club, to the darker shadows and mysteries of Jack the Ripper…what say you Columbus? How could the two possibly be related? Hmmm…that is what the book is for. So how many tunnels are burrowed and remain hidden beneath the dirt of your streets, Columbus?

Here is a riddle…

How did Jack the Ripper move so swiftly without being seen from crime scene to crime scene throughout London’s White Chapel Station? Who owned lamps from the same? How did the Columbus Strangler disappear through the streets of Wynnton without detection, Columbus?

Oh and here’s another hint… Anybody up for the opera?

I will explain all in the days to come, but something  tells me- I just found my path!

Thank you Charley.

4/3 /2014

Five years ago today I lost my father.

Last night a black feather fell before my feet.

This morning I had a conversation with God…I thought it went well.

4/2/2014

With the full moon on the wane, intentions offered and voiced, life seems to be picking up and manifestations ignited. I cannot tell you the number of nostalgic moments that have abounded my daily travels, triggered by certain scents which initiate muscle memory responses from childhood; the calming effect of freshly mowed grass, hints of baseball games and the first sighting of fireflies… shallow waves gently kissing the shoreline in rhythm with the dancing flames  of lakeside bonfires meant to reduce the drudgery of winter’s deposits and my personal favorite…the first hint of wisteria tubers, clinging to anemic vines just waking from their slumber. This year I am ready-nay eager for change. Not always a warm weather aficionado, I am caught at how I am  impatient for the gift of Spring this year.It must be a pinnacle year…no longer blushing at 50, but owning where I am in the world and in my life, I no longer wish to wait to check the temperature of my feelings so that I can manage and/or compare them to others.

This year, 2014, is the year of the Green Wood Horse and many mental landscapes will be covered at a great clip now that April has been breached. Uncharacteristically, I remain an appreciative slave to the erratic joy celebrated in  its convulsive sunshine, where the Bronte in me would normally gravitate towards the broodier and darker bucolic moments to pull from deeper within. Perhaps it is the exhaustion of lengthy contrails of exasperation at the heady achievements of the last five years being left behind that inspires and has me anxious in search of the lighter side of life. I have toiled long and hard for Charley’s case, bared my soul in the process and no longer fear the reflection of that which brought me to such thresholds.

This new case promises to bring me back through such horrific mazes, but this time I am prepared. Like Alice, I have been down the rabbit hole and found my way back, older and wiser for the detour. Keep your eyes peeled, for the scenery is about to change- dramatically and so too my approach to this new case: the Columbus Strangler!

3/28/2014

So much information to assimilate and bring into focus…this Columbus case is almost as disconcerting as Charley’s, in that so many people were protected on this case as those poor elderly women lay tortured in their beds. What I find ironic is that both cases seemed to have used the safety  scapegoats of the time. In Charley’s case, they used the “suicide” over a love affair and the Columbus case- they claimed it was a black man after rich old white women.

Now, if you have done your homework, you will have looked up the columbus killings of ’77 and you will have read a bit about what has transpired. Then, you will say, ” Well… they convicted someone of the crime; what more do you want?” How about a little justice?  Yes, they did. They did try and convict a man. Too bad the evidence doesn’t quite match! But you know me- I’m so picky about those things. Things like DNA matching DNA and other silly pieces of trace evidence that maybe should match- but what the heck! This is Georgia and they wrote laws back then as they needed them!

I have many more papers and articles to get through, but we will begin to talk about this case and see what can be done. And once R has had a chance to review some things as well…we will hopefully hear from the victim’s themselves.

On a lighter note, my parents dropped by for a visit last night…it was good to hear from them.

Tomorrow I will have more for you- tonight I need to rest.

3/23/2013

Ok… time to jump back into the fray.

The Dixie Mafia book is under outline and I will do my best to begin to piece it all together, but as stated before- we have a new and more immediate case that must be dealt with: The case of the Columbus Strangler. I have already created the cover art and the title for this book will be, “THE HARVEST: A True Crime Investigative Memoir of the Columbus Strangler” by T.A. Powell. This case is frightening by many standards as there is one man on death row and another serving life for these crimes- but they may be the wrong men. How so you ask?

Let’s begin at the beginning…

In 1977, a series of murders began in Columbus, Georgia began that would leave this Southern jewel traumatized for decades; the case of the Columbus Strangler. Along with strangulation by nylon stockings, some of these victims suffered other tortures, including brutal rapes and maiming—horrors which eclipsed the lives of seven elderly white women who had held court as the upper echelon of Columbus in its more innocent years. An eighth woman was able to survive and lived to share information, did—but it was ignored.  Information that was either ignored or conveniently perverted to fit whatever local officials needed to find the right scapegoat to calm the nerves of the Southern gentry and preserve the identities of those involved in the underbelly of Columbus’s hedonistic societies.

Sound familiar? Think Valdosta stood alone?

There was sex, booze, money, porn…only this time there was another twist! Secret Societies…and their secret practices. Personal secrets some local officials could not afford to have made public. Secrets about their peculiar habits…secret obsessions…sexual persuasions and sexual perversions. Ahhhh, the 70’s were a bitter time for those who felt they were too enlightened to be caged and ruled by mere local law or societal morality.

So lets look at some of the physical evidence known and documented in this case: DNA (semen) evidence, shoe imprints and bite mark evidence.

Let’s start with the DNA evidence left behind by the rapist and murderer on the nightgown of one of the victim’s. One would assume that they were able to garner a positive match from the DNA on this gown to the DNA of the man on Death Row, right? After all, a man’s life hangs in the balance…but what if I told you it was not a match? Now, let’s look at another piece of hard evidence. What if there was the imprint of a shoe left behind at one of the crime scenes- a size 9-1/2 to be exact? One would assume that this print size would match the foot of the convicted felon, right? But what if I told you he wears a size 13-1/2?

So what if I tell you the courts had the DNA, the shoe print, plus bite mark evidence left on the breast of one of these women to help convict the right felon- wouldn’t they use it? One would assume that the dental imprints of the felon and the details of the bite mark evidence surrounding the missing nipple of this victim would be a perfect match-if they have the right man. One would even be brave enough to assume that law officials and the District Attorney would allow nothing less than absolute compliance and documented verifications of all evidence testing and results be in tact before condemning a man to death and yet- they have not.

So what’s their game- what’s their agenda in this case? Who are pulling their strings?

One would assume that all the rigors of juris prudence are being met in this case, but we all know what happens when we assume things, don’t we?

Charley taught us about that! When we assume- people get away with MURDER.

This case is current…so current and on-going that its updates share the same name of this month, so one cannot truly call this a cold case- but in truth it is. Why? Because the women who suffered these atrocious endings are dead and can no longer speak for themselves. But is the man who committed them? Not according to the DA handling this case- she’s convinced she has the right men in prison- even though the evidence tells us otherwise-why? Folks, they even say they lost the original DNA evidence samples, but that cannot be used as viable defense, since we have mitochondrial DNA available through a female relative of our person of interest that will suffice, if need be… but has any been taken?

Does the DA even know where else she should be looking for the true murderer?

If not… then we shall begin to remind her. So let’s start!

Who is our person of interest? I will begin that tale next time.

Has the DA even looked at this person? Not as far as I know.

Who else is he connected to? Oh, you will not believe everyone in on this thing!

How do the Boston Strangler and the Atlanta child killings tie into this case? Hold onto your hats kiddos!

What does the evidence tell you? The men in prison are not guilty.

Who is being protected? Good question.

Is potential evidence being suppressed? We will show you…

What do have the victim’s have to say about how they died- what they saw as they lay crushed beneath this man’s weight- what other cues can they lead us to? Now, that should prove to be rather interesting.

Time to bring R out of retirement…time to walk and talk with the dead. Hopefully Charley will be there to help guide the way.

So, are you willing to walk down this road with me again? Are you willing to dig in the dirt and filth of another small Georgia town in order to set free  souls that have been condemned to a salacious limbo of injustice by the sovereignty of a bunch of backwoods miscreants and town officials who twisted the rules of  law to erase newspaper headlines?

Polish up on ancient history my dear readers, because this case goes places even the History Channel dares not to go.

Be open to discovery-embrace the bizarre as this epic journey begins!

3/20/2014

On the 14th I received a call that disturbed me. Later that day I was cut off by a small Toyota that had a license plate that read: MRRLJR

Translate that in my world? Mr. R.L. Jr.

The true identity of my 4th in flannel? Hmmmm… the universe is charging me with new impressions- new insights. The next day a man noticed my Miniature Dachshund, Schnitzel and then commented about how much he loved his…a Dachshund named, “Charlie.” Perhaps we are not yet finished with the rest of this story?

On an aside, much of late has been pointing towards unrelenting change…

I know you grow weary of hearing such heralds from all angles as this year seems to be hell bent on change, and even in my own life I am not immune to the reality of its impact. In my front yard, there now looms a huge sign…in my job I can feel shifts, in my life I can see new and uncharted curves in the road ahead. I am being asked to prepare- nay, almost demanded to prepare and to release to allow for the new adventure about to begin.

How do I know? Because the universe is extremely subtle in asking us not to be attached to the outcome of a certain situation- or situations and they are asking us to trust the process and notice the guidance they offer freely.

The angel in charge of my particular situation had a rather clever way to snag my attention!

This morning I took the dogs for a walk. Fog lay thick across the lake like yesterdays regrets and out of the burled chiffon haze, two Canadian geese appeared. Juxtaposed against the brilliant white and magenta striped blossoms of multiple landscaped Japanese Magnolias, it was a calming and surreal visual. Naturally I scrambled to retrieve my phone from my housecoat pocket and raised it to snap a photo and in the screen, a gray box appeared and told me basically that I had too much crap stored in my memory to allow the photo to be taken. The geese dipped and slid one way and then the other in between the branches of the tree blossoms…I clicked and erased as many messages and old photos as I could. By the time I had enough memory to capture the scene- the geese had had enough of the cove and begun to move on. I paused for that moment- looked at my phone and just as I was about to mentally blame it for its archaic margins, I realized it had nothing to do with the phone-but the operator and understood the futility of my erasing– and released the frantic need to hold or capture this image and simply allowed myself to enjoy the joy of its immediate and sacred expression.

The message was clear. As evolved as I’d believed myself to have become…I had fallen back into old modes. Eager for and frighted of imminent change-I was still carting around too much old information and too many old images as a security blanket—so much so, that my backlog of experience and regret had blocked my ability to allow and process something new… something beautiful…something poignant and something fleeting. Determined I would get the photo I felt I deserved to help promote and secure future Zen like moments, I raced the dogs back to the deck– slammed the gate shut and in slippered feet rushed back down towards the dock through the front yard to get another view and another shot at capturing the serenity and fleeting beauty. Instead of capturing the two majestic geese and billowing blossoms in flight inside my  electronic frame-the backside of a new large size which reads “Lake Property For Sale” loomed huge in the center of the screen on my phone and caught me up short. As I stood there and tried to adjust myself, the sign continued to get in the way of my electronic bliss. The geese unaware of my plight followed the shoreline and in that moment, the fog and the bent light that had glowed behind them no longer held the magic or the allure of the moment before and  brought up short by my own recent decisions, had an epiphany without the benefit and buffer of caffeine.

How odd, that there on the shore of my author’s retreat I had finally been faced with the reality and the repercussions of my decisions. The very moments I had yearned to preserve forever, were never meant to be forever. Nothing is ever meant to be forever. Control is an illusion.

Familial crisis dictates change and try as I might to protect or control the outcome of what must now move me forward again…I am both victim and agent of my own decisions; fearful I have made the wrong decision or that by manifesting something new- I have betrayed something old.

And then in the midst of such quandaries, I heard the words I was meant to hear to clam my fears:

“It is time.”

As a Taurus, I am not comfortable with change- even as my soul begs for it- I fear what I crave. So for today, I shall put on my big girl pants, tilt my head towards the stars and smile, knowing that change is the only true constant in my life and that this mission I have been given was done given for a reason.

Here’s to a new adventure- may I be brave enough to embrace it!