While living out of State, my daughter told me over the phone that she was having sexual contact with someone back home. The second time we talked, she said she couldn't talk about it because the phone was "too hot" to use. I notified authorities and couldn't get anything done by telephone, so I drove to deal with it in person.
On the way, as I was driving through my mother's retirement community, I saw a girl of 6-12 years old riding in an old classic convertible with a middle-aged driver on the right side of the front seat (the driver's side was on the right). As I met her gaze in passing, what looked like an involuntary convulsion of anxious exasperation bellowed out of her. It was the first indication to me that something was wrong.
I got a hotel room to consider the situation, and showed up at my mother's place just before I planned to leave to say hello. I heard thumping under the stairs during my visit, and wondered what was going on. My mother packed a lunch, and talked me into leaving my trunk full of belongings to save fuel. I still didn't know what was going on, but her trucker boyfriend was there, and the van driven by her old boyfriend who I knew to be dangerous was parked in the yard, so I chose not to challenge the circumstances and left. Years later, I was given bits and pieces from the trunk in disarray.
On the way home, on a road mapped out by my mother's boyfriend, I saw two dogs sniffing what looked to be the eviscerated lungs and some of the entrails of a small person on the left side of the road.
The remains were fresh, blood had dried, but was running when the remains were placed. A triangular tear in the tissue of the lungs made it clear that the interior was still moist - green, but intact. They had not dried out, so they had not been there long. There was no noticeable odor, but two dogs were curious. A square torn out of a blue hospital gown with a circular Hospital Anesthesiologist logo on it, and a few tin cans laid beside the remains. I video taped the evidence and drove on to find what I believe was the rest of the eviscerated body hung by the neck from a three pole ranch gate.
He, or she, looked like s/he had been hobbled, with socks on feet pointing straight down. Dressed in what looked like brand new clothes and wearing lipstick smeared and mascara drawn like a starburst around open eyes, a silent scream seemed to passed out of him, or her. His, or her open eyes gave me the impression that s/he might be still alive, but because I had just videotaped the eviscerated remains of his, or her plural cavity a few miles before - and, because s/he was hanging by the twisted remains of his, or her own esophagus and digestive tract. I did not stop to check life signs, I could not. It was clearly a dangerous situation. S/he hung so lightly, seeming to drift, spin, and follow my gaze in the sunlight as I drove by.
I had no working phone, but was gravely concerned about the situation, so with the videotape in hand, I drove on to get the information to the police. I stopped at a roadside bar to call 911, but perhaps due to the state of shock I was in, or because I wasn't convincing enough, no one responded. Drugged, as usual on tranquilizers, and in a state of shock, I stopped to change change my underwear several times, and when I did, I found bugs on my clothes in the trunk. So I left the blue square torn out of the hospital Anesthesiologist gown, along with my underwear in a dumpster at a lakeside campsite, and returned to my drive home. And as I did, while crossing a deep canyon, a howling of the wind buffeted the car, and a cloud of blackbirds descended on the horizon.
I also remember an old grey pickup truck that followed me through the foothills that may have had as its passenger the same girl that alarmed me as I arrived to my Mother's place, but this time with a heavy-set bearded middle aged man. They turned towards the mountains in the east on a side road before I found the remains. I also recall a Sheriff's squad car following during some period of the ongoing trip after the encounter, but at one point had to turn around because I found myself in another State, so I can't be sure of exactly where I was at all times, or even in which direction I was traveling, but the only time I couldn't account for at all during my trip was a short nap just after I crossed the boarder from my Mother's retirement community. I ate breakfast and did my laundry the morning before the encounter and after driving all night. That time was strange, flashes of light on the drive the night before, a desolate road, and a heavy dampness to my clothing while doing the laundry told me that something wasn't right. Please see: Log
I also talked to the Authorities about the allegations my daughter made to me over the phone when I arrived; about the adult in her home sometime prior to my talk with my daughter. Though I did my best to relate what had happened - not only then - but also over recent years to anyone who would listen, it was clear that my efforts were inadequate and perhaps misguided. My daughter may not have chosen to share this information with others, so this document remains anonymous. What she did share with me was more like a confession than an accusation. An investigation into my daughter's allegations was conducted two years after I arrived, and what I was told is that there was no one at the household that could have granted her those permissions, and no disclosure to police by my daughter to confirm my report.
I am in no position to compete with Investigators on this case or any other, but I have done my best to do all I can to own my own behavior, and report all I know online, and in person, and I've kept names out of these documents for the safety everyone concerned. While I still have unanswered questions, I cannot presume to do the work of Law Enforcement, or lead an investigation. I have to rely upon the Rule of Law, and Law Enforcement to do its job as it normally does. I've looked for strength and guidance to address the harm that has occurred, but what I've found is penitence and the inspiration I need from Orders, or Traditions like The Knights Hospitaller, who's obligations are reprinted here: Aspirations.