factions of business, politics, and people. Mickey Levinson, said I was «family» now, after my brother Rick and his first wife Leslie (Mickey's niece) were married.
'To be afraid is to have more faith in evil than in God.'
Chapter Seventeen: The Rat Pack
'Birds of a feather, flock together…'
I was programmed to stay thin, tan, and silly, and to act like a stereotypical dumb blonde. One warm and beautiful Southern California summer day, I brushed the Malibu Beach sand from my bikini and feet, and jumped into my car to head down Pacific Coast Highway to my next assignment. Clad only in my bikini, a short white lace cover-up and sandals, I headed into the Malibu Courthouse. The woman at the desk waved me through to the judge's private quarters.
Without hesitation, I entered the judge's office and climbed into Judge Merrick's lap — sand, suntan lotion, and all. He laughed, sat back, and enjoyed the attention as I precociously performed my sexual acts on him. I satisfied him sexually and left as quickly as I had arrived. Bob had a joke for me to say to judges as a means for variety of orgasmic experiences. When a judge was orgasming he preprogrammed me to say, 'Here come the judge, here come the judge,' like they said on Laugh-In, the popular television show of the time.
Bob also had me instilled with top tunes, like a jukebox. I had a personality system that delivered impromptu verses from songs at the perfect time so that they would cleverly fit into a social situation. I had personalities that could sing the songs very closely to the way the original artists sang them. I knew the words perfectly and sang with similar inflections and tones as the singers. Lots of people thought I was very adroit when I cleverly popped a song into a conversation, but I was really programmed to do that.
Bob sent me to have sex with Casey Kasem, the KRLA Disc Jockey. Then the next day, I had to listen to his station all day long because he gave histories and stories about the singers of the current popular songs just before he played their records. Bob said I had to listen the whole day because it was important to 'keep my lid on tight.' Bob told me to think of myself as a trash can and that no matter what, he would always be there to hold the lid on. He used this trash can memory-stuffer and scrambler idea on me for a long time. My oldest brother, Jim, undoubtedly under his own programming, was used to help keep me in line by having me watch Sesame Street. I was told to sit down in front of the television and watch with his children and if my eyes moved away from the screen my brother would rap my knuckles. Watching the Cookie Monster trash can character in the show 're- minded' me to 'keep the lid on.
During this time in my life, I was finishing up high school, and although my parents and school counselors reminded me that I wasn't college material, I was looking forward to attending junior college at Pierce College in Woodland Hills. Craig and I had been going steady since we were thirteen years old and except for a brief break- up in high school, I did not date any other boys. Craig prepared to go to the University of Colorado. I was completely unaware that secretly laced into my life was a whole array of discreetly hidden sexual rendezvous with men in powerful, yet diversified, positions.
I was filmed pornographically in many locations, including Woodland Hills, Hollywood, Malibu, Bel Aire, Studio City, other areas in the San Fernando Valley, and varied locations all over California. I also worked for a short time for Harold Anderson Construction Company in Bel Aire, but don't remember exactly what I did to work for him. I do remember lots of pornography being filmed at this stage of my life and the level of pornographic filming was more professional. There were themes, costumes, music, professional make-up, special props and lighting. Personalities inside of me were taught how to work with the lighting to catch the best poses, and to move my body so the filming crew could get the best shots. Upon completion of the filming, I went home to my mother and father in
Woodland Hills and later might even go on a date with Craig, fully believing that I was an innocent, loyal and loving girlfriend. Due to the mind control I was under, I had no way of knowing that I was leading anything other than a normal life, as a normal teenager, in a normal family, in Woodland Hills.
The extensive contact I had with Bob Hope as a teenager and during my early 20's showed me that Bob was much more than an entertainer. Entertainment was actually just a clever hobby of his. I witnessed his participation as a strategically placed, influential, and integral part of an underworld group that secretly sought to control the world. He had direct ties to the White House, but not direct phone lines like Nelson Rockefeller had. Through my affiliation with Bob Hope, I was to meet and interact with many powerful businessmen, politicians, and celebrities.
I was flown into a small airport in Palm Springs to be with Bob and his cronies. I was picked up by a silver limo and taken to his house. The men in suits met me and took me to Bob, wherever he was — at home, on the golf course, or in town. Before I was delivered to Bob, they gave me clothes, shoes, and jewelry to adorn myself.
If Bob was in a meeting or at the club with 'the guys, he would motion me over towards him and say, 'Let me have a look at you honey.' He often raised his eyebrows as if to say I met with his approval and/or was sexy enough for him, and then he would pull me to him and sit me on his lap. He wanted to show his buddies that he had what he called 'a sweet young thing.' Depending on which crowd we were with, he would introduce me as his niece, his budding starlet prodigy, or his 'sweet young thing.' Bob very often introduced me as his 'favorite niece, Sharon Weatherby.' I guess he left people to their own conclusions. But he never did refer to me by my own name — NEVER!
I often accompanied Bob to the golf course in Palm Springs. One day he was dressed casually, in light blue slacks, pastel yellow shirt, white belt and white golf shoes. There were several other men golfing with him. I was there just to serve Bob. I was seventeen or eighteen, thin, tan, blonde and dressed in a tiny white dress with spaghetti straps. I wore white sandals that came up from my toe and met at a strap around my ankle, with a gold heart anklet on my left ankle. Bob or the men in suits always gave me everything to wear. I was not invited to play the golf game, but was instructed to watch and SMILE! This particular day Bob sang to me, as he did at other times when he was feeling jovial in spirit, 'Button up your overcoat, take good care of yourself you belong to me.' He sang and joked with me often like I was able to really react and respond to him. As a programmed slave, I was merely compliant and smiled all the time.
After the golf game, we all went to the clubhouse and had dinner. A lady approached with a camera, attempting to photograph Bob. The men in suits denied her access. People often tried to take pictures but he directed someone to get the camera and remove the film. He commented on how rude people were to interrupt or to invade his privacy like that. There usually were not many (if any) people in places we frequented, unless it was for a show and then he had bodyguards to protect him.
At this dinner, when his male group hit upon a «sensitive» subject, Bob asked me to go powder my nose for awhile and handed me some money. I knew that meant to be gone for a long while. After what seemed like 'a long while' had passed, I kept checking back to see if it was time for him to motion me back, as was his custom. Finally, he waved me over to join them and pulled me onto his lap.
Sometimes Bob met with men I recognized as Secret Service agents from seeing them previously with Richard Nixon or Ronald Reagan. After these «meetings» we would often go by limo to a hotel or to his home when no one was there. Most of the time his wife, Dolores, was not at home.
On other occasions when we were with people and he wanted me to leave, Bob would pat my bottom and say good-bye with a smile. Then the men in suits would step in and get me. Usually I was taken back to his house to get ready for an evening event. Bob enjoyed having people around. He had parties attended by lots of famous people. Sometimes I was given as a gift to one or more of his friends for the night, but was programmed to return to his room to sleep. Unless Dolores was home. Dolores was not there often, but when she was, I was usually flown home early.
It was strange the few times I did see Dolores at a party, knowing that I was having sex with Bob and had
