Early in the morning of Sept. 17, 1982 Stu came into my office and told me he had received a call for me on his phone. Stu said he did not know why the person had called, but I assumed it was because I know longer answered my phone. After 5 years of incessant harassing phone calls, the best solution was for me not to answer the phone. In psychological terms I was practicing what is called "avoidance learning" where a person avoids adverse stimuli. In this case the adverse stimuli was the annoying phone calls.
At eleven o'clock, I was in the secretarial office when Stu walked in and quickly grabbed my arm and took me over to Sandy, who was the area secretary.
"Did you take a call for Russ this morning?" Stu asked.
"Yes," she answered. "The gentleman just said he would call back at one."
"What did he want?" I blurted out.
"He just said he would call back at one. Just be by your phone," she instructed.
By now I knew I was being set up for something, but I didn't know what. I spent the rest of the morning wondering what could possibly happen. I decided I was not going along with the plan and I just wouldn't answer the phone. Around noon I went to lunch by myself as usual, and at about one o'clock I headed back to my office. As I approached the door, I heard the phone ringing. I intended to let the phone ring, but as I entered the office there was a co-worker answering the phone. "They" had made sure that someone was there to answer the phone. The co-worker took the message and then while still holding the phone he said to me, "There is a gentleman in the lobby waiting for you."
Without saying anything I headed down the maze of hallways the lead to the lobby. When I sung open the doors to the lobby I was shocked to see the same co-worker who had just answered the phone! He must have hung up the phone the second I left and then raced by another route to the lobby just to create confusion and anxiety. Now I was really wondering what was going to happen. I looked at the receptionist and said, "There is suppose to be a man here to see me."
"There is no one here. Maybe he is in the lobby of the 320 building." she answered.
With that she called the other building, located the man and explained to him that I was in the adjacent building.
"He will be right over." she told me.
"Did he say what he wanted?" I asked excitedly.
"No." She replied. "He just said he would be right over."
I sat down and waited about five minutes. All the while I kept wondering if "they" had just orchestrated all of this to make me think something bad was going to happen or if they were actually going to do something offensive. Finally, a plainly dressed man entered the building. He walked over to me and asked me my name. When I told him, he reached in his pocket and pulled out some papers and said, "I have this summons for you." Then he handed them to me.
"What is this for?" I asked.
"I don't know. I just deliver them, but I think your wife is filing for divorce," he said. Then he turned and left.
Divorce, I thought! I opened the papers and read "Motion for Judgment of Divorce on grounds of cruel and inhuman treatment."
I exploded. I went back to my office yelling at anyone I passed in the hall or at anyone who could hear me.
When I got back to my office I tried to calm down and read the complaint. I wondered how Anita could file for divorce on those grounds after I had saved her life and after we had worked so hard to on the separation agreement. I knew that "they" had put her up to it, but I couldn't see how a case could be made for divorce on "cruel and inhuman treatment." I had bent over backwards to treat Anita as well as I could under the conditions with which we had to live.
As I read the complaint, rage burned throughout me. I stated that "on numerous occassions,(sic) I struck the plaintiff on and about her person, leaving the plaintiff with bruises and contusions, and threatened the life of the plantiff by attempting to strangle the plaintiff with his bare hands." The only time I ever "hit" Anita was many years previously when we had taken Karate together and would practice "fighting" together. And she did complain about the bruises she would get in Karate class, but that was from fighting with other students in the class. Other than that, Anita never experienced any bruises or contusions. And I had never threatened her life. In fact, I had made every effort to protect her from the machinations of sick Nazi scum. But I was dealing with the fantasy that the my sub-human scumbags captors were trying to create on paper.
Another clause in the complaints stated that I had locked her in the bedroom. Now as anyone should know, bedroom doors lock from the inside, not the outside so it is impossible to lock someone IN the bedroom. And our house was typical when it came to bedroom locks. The statement that I had locked her in the bedroom demonstrated that the charges were fictitious, but my Nazi tormentors knew that I wasn't about to try to challenge the charges knowing that they were pulling the strings.
As I read the document, I realized again that "they" were trying to establish a paper trail and a case to make me look like a violent person, and at the same time "they" were trying to make me violent with their lies. It was a typical Nazi "no win" situation.
But, the next time you read how someone went "crazy" and shot up some place and the people in it, maybe you won't be gullible about the Nazi media propaganda that is put out about the person. With things that are going on in this country today on a large scale, it is important that you know how the Nazis work and manipulate the system to create their fantasy world. That is one of the major reasons I'm telling you what the sick bastards did to me.
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