mayor of the town of Correctionville, Iowa, where he lived with my grandmother. Later on he won a landslide election to become the supervisor of the Third District and for years was involved in both local and state politics.
My paternal grandmother, Leah Eckhart, was a small but angry-tempered woman. Now I understand why. Instead of sleeping upstairs in the plush bedroom with my grandfather, she slept in the bare cement floored basement on a small cot. At the time I could not question or wonder about that either. My grandparents are now both deceased, left with never having the opportunity of understanding or healing the intergenerational abuse that created this problem to begin with.
I had many traumatic experiences on my visits to Iowa. I suppose, back then, my father's return visit to his parents appeared just to be a family reunion, but nothing could have been further from the truth.
While in Iowa, I had the first of several forced abortions, which was performed in a torturous fashion by a local doctor. Although I was actually raped and made pregnant at a ritual, I was humiliated and shamed for becoming pregnant. As in all trauma-based mind control, everything was a double-bind. I was blamed and shamed for everything that happened, none of which I ever had any control over. My baby, which was not yet old enough to be born alive, was nevertheless a perfectly formed fetus. My grandparents and my father performed a ritual behind their house in which they convinced me that I had killed my own baby (it was obviously born dead), and they ate it and forced me to participate. Since I was suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder, this traumatic experience, along with many others, was stored neatly away from my conscious mind, hidden in alternate personalities, and sealed away from my conscious awareness by programming that covered and hid the truth of my life.
One night after returning to my grandfather's house, somehow the experiences that terrified me were not so neatly hidden from my consciousness and in an act of panic and desperation, I frantically tried to phone my mother to ask her to help me. Overhearing me, my grandfather grabbed the phone out of my hand and proceeded to rip the phone out of the wall and in retaliation, tied me to the post of his iron bed frame for two days, while they went out of town. My grandfather was very brutal. But my father was very proud of the human technology I possessed. He was pleased to be able to show his father all of my «trained» abilities.
During the remainder of the time we were in Iowa, I was forced to entertain my grandfather's business and political friends. I danced naked on the table at meetings and performed sexual favors for many of my grandfather's associates. To demonstrate my abilities, my father prompted the men to use their cigars or cigarettes to burn my vaginal area as I kneeled before them. My father wanted to demonstrate that I would smile and show no signs of the pain due to mind control. After these meetings, I was connected to a higher level of politicians.
From then on, when my father took me on our yearly trips to Iowa, I was slowly connected to more and more political figures. In the meantime, he used me wherever he could to get cash, or more often, courtesies for favors. We started having enough money to go out to dinner, which was a treat we could not previously afford. It's likely that some of the money came from my father's payoffs from my use in porn and prostitution.
There were child and adolescent training centers called 'farms,' that I believe were located in Montreal, a city in the French Canadian Province of Quebec. I was taken to one for 'grace training,' and to step up the etiquette and formal training I would need to be used a notch higher. Other teenage girls were also there in training. It felt like a prison. I think I was there for a week — it was difficult to determine the actual span of time. It had to be winter because it was chilly and windy outside, and the trees were barren and there were leaves on the ground. This place was located out in the countryside. It wasn't on the way to anything so if anyone came near they could easily be identified as intruders. We were seen to public eyes as unwed mothers. We even had to stuff a pillow in our pants and go into town every once in awhile. I slept with other girls in a white farm building that had cement floors and cots with mattresses that lined the room. We all compliantly took the medicine they gave us every morning. The people that worked at 'the farm' changed daily, men and women both, but never the same ones two days in a row. We ate dinner and we all got into bed, then someone told us a story. They treated us like a herd of cows and we all totally obeyed instructions; there was no fuss and no fight, just total obedience.
I was taught how to walk elegantly with a book on my head and had to be able to squat down without dropping the book, and then stand up again. I was assigned to work with language input tapes in a small sound room equipped with headphones. I was given a mirror to look into to practice making certain sounds. All the instructions were given to me auditorily, even down to, 'hold your mouth like you are saying A or O,' and then I heard the sound I was to mimic. Once I learned the physical impressions of how to make the sounds they could easily attach language skills. I don't know how it all works, but later they had me lay down with headphones on while they played sounds so fast that I couldn't hear the words. Later they said that it had 'worked,' and that I had received French language enhancement. The lady explained that in most foreign countries it was proper to ask for a translator, but it was to be common background for the upper class to at least speak fluent French and Italian, and preferably German and Russian also. Since I was going to be used with foreign people and in foreign countries, I had to know their languages and customs.
I was also shown movies from a film projector onto a screen. I saw films on different foreign countries in order to obtain the necessary culture. They instructed me, 'Put this in your China file,' and then I would watch a movie intently recording all of it, the places, the names, dates, historical facts, everything. Then later on when Henry and I arrived in these foreign lands, I was familiar with their cultural background so I wouldn't make a faux pas.
All we did at the training farm was eat lightly, sleep and learn; input was ingested in large quantities for later use. Henry didn't visit me there. He said he might stop in to check on me, but he never did. Beforehand, he tied my Wizard of Oz programming to this event when he told me to believe, 'I left my bed in Kansas, and went on the wings of a tornado to the farm.' When I came back 'to Kansas' I woke up in my own bed in California and was very, very sick. My mom took care of me and told me that I had the flu. I had a high fever and was a little delirious. I couldn't even manage to keep my eyes focused. I felt exhausted and so sick that I couldn't sleep, so I lay in my bed and prayed to die.
During summer vacation one year, Mr. Rice, our Shriner neighbor, re-introduced me to his daughter, Joanie Rice, who was visiting for the summer from her home in White Plains, New York. She was much older than I and was very attractive. She wore lots of makeup and jewelry, and wore a heavy perfume called Royal Secret. During that time, my maternal grandmother who lived with us had to be put in a rest home and my mother visited her every day, so Joanie, stayed to babysit me and played with me by our pool in my mother's absence. It all looked like a nice arrangement from the outside, but her presence was planned to further my programming. She taught me to be 'dignified.' I heard that word over and over and over. She taught me social etiquette-to act polished, to have good manners, and she was there to voice-program me when the men came with the equipment. At these times, she and a group of men held me down on the couch, drugged me, placed a band around my head, which they retrieved from a black briefcase full of special equipment including bright lights and machines which delivered different sounds and instructions. I was given names of politicians and programmed with instructions that, when I saw them on TV or heard them on radio, I was to become completely amnestic of who and what I was involved in. She also programmed me from lists of numbers and codes. Other years, I was flown to her glamorous apartment in New York. She escorted me to Washington, DC at first, so I wouldn't feel afraid or alone and could work at my maximum capacity. My mother and I also began to wear Royal Secret perfume, like Joanie.
My family bought property in Twenty-nine Palms, California and built a small cabin on the desert land. One weekend my father explained that my mom needed a little time to herself since her mother had just passed away. I, too, was sad that my grandmother had died. My controllers told me she went to the streets of hell as evidenced by the blood coming out of her face. She died of high blood pressure, which caused the bleeding. But they said she went to hell and I hoped she would come back alive so we could re-route her. But after awhile that didn't scare me because I knew my «Gram» didn't go to hell. Although in a programmed state, my grandmother participated at times in my abuse, I knew she was really a nice quiet, gentle woman, who like my mother, never would have intentionally hurt anyone.
So, my father took my brothers and I to our Twenty-nine Palms cabin and one day they involved me in a sex ritual. They got me drunk, then stripped and tied me by my wrists and ankles face up in the sand in the intense desert sun. They seemed so excited as they did this to me. My father painted a satanic pentagram and green
