A Slave's Choice: Torture or Death!

It was a bit ironic that my new next-door-neighbor turned out to be a FBI agent who
specialized in corporate crime. I really didn't have much faith in the FBI being able to helpme with my problems since the government in general had had very little success in an anti-trust suit they had against RAM. The people who were causing my problems were a power elite who literally were above the law. In fact I was becoming more and more convinced that some arm of the government was behind my problems. But, since I had no other hope, I thought I would talk to the agent and maybe use it as leverage.

One weekend while Anita was away visiting her father, I got the opportunity to talk with my new neighbor. I talked to him about my problem in generalities and he seemed interested, but he was more interested in the general business practices at IBM. Little came out of the conversation except an affirmation in my mind that he would be able to do little to help me.

The following Monday I decided to approach my boss to see what response I would get. I went into his office and got directly to the point.

“Hi Don. Do you have a moment to talk about something?”

“Come on in Russ,” he replied.

I took out a small pocket tape recorder and said, “Do you mind if I record this conversation because it is important?”

Don became extremely nervous and started tapping his pencil on the desk and bouncing his feet on the floor. “We can talk about anything you like, but you can't record it!”

I said fine and then continued. “My next door neighbor is a FBI agent, and if the harassment doesn't stop around here I'm going to talk to them. Now you can tell that to whomever you please, but I am not kidding.”

Don was excited and nervous and he didn't know what to say. Apparently “they” had not briefed him for handling such a situation. “Fine, I'll pass you message on,” he finally replied.

“Good.” I said. “Because I'm tired of living like this.”

“You know Russ, you should trust RAM. We would never participate in any nefarious scheme and besides, the FBI treats people pretty rough too.”

I left Don's office feeling at least Don was worried about my going to the FBI. I really had no intention of going to the FBI, but I was hoping the threat might bring some change.

The response to my FBI threat was swift and retaliatory as usual. That afternoon I was working alone in the laboratory when my second level manager, Gene Leski came in and started a conversation with me. After some idle chatter, Gene said, “Russ, a person could get killed working alone.” Then after a long pause he added, “working in the lab that is.” I took the comment to be a disguised threat on my life, but the way it was worded I could never prove it.

That evening I told Anita what had happened and I said, “He worded the threat in such a way that you could argue that it was a harmless comment, but if you had been there, the only way it could have been taken was as a threat.”

One thing the threat had not done was cause any great increase in my anxiety. I just was not worried about them killing me because I believed “they” did not need another martyr like Karen Silkwood on their hands.

The next day at work was fairly normal. There were no harassing phone calls or strange incidences. As I was about to leave work Don Slewowski grabbed me and said he had to talk to me about working in the lab. I said Gene already had spoken to me and another conversation on the topic wasn't necessary. But Don insisted.

“You know Russ, some of your actions are really dangerous. You could get seriously hurt or even killed if you keep it up.”

“I know, Gene already informed me.”

“Well, I'm just telling you for your own protection,” Don assured me with a threatening tone in his voice.

I left work feeling again that my life had been threatened, but it was done under the disguise of working alone in the laboratory. First, none of the threats ever mentioned my comments about going to the FBI and two RAM trained, smooth talking managers would not use words like “killed” in talking about a minor infraction of working in the laboratory alone. Finally, the tone of Don's voice was more threatening than advising, but as usual a person would sound crazy if he said RAM managers were making threats against your life. Given the situation, it would be hard not to take them as threats. This time, the comments did have the intended effect in that they created a great deal of anxiety and a sense of panic set in.

Nazi Terrorism and the american injustice(sic) system.

If you think you are “free” in this country and you work for a living, read the previous post again. I was a slave! If I wasn't a good slave, the masters, the owners would force me to a subsistence level of existence. And since I already knew how corrupt and worthless the american judicial was, I had no legal avenues to pursue. I will relate later how the american slavery system was enforced on other employees.

The phone was also used to modify my behavior in other ways. I had decided to make another dentist appointment by the same dentist which had broken my tooth. On the first call, the receptionist answered , identified herself and then we were cut off. I immediately called back. This time I got to identify myself before the call was cut off again. On the third call I was explaining to the receptionist how my calls were being cut off when it happened again. At that point I decided “they” did not want me to go back to that dentist, and “they” or somebody else were cutting off my phone calls. I found another dentist in the phone book and I called and made an appointment without any problems. My choice of dentists had been made by cutting off my phone calls.

At this point I had become pretty desperate and was hoping to find some way out of my predicament before I went completely insane. I decided to call Cruz Little and find out where the lawsuit stood. I called with some apprehension because of the altered sworn statement, but I needed to know where things stood in the Gamma Supplies legal battle. He informed me that the judge had reversed his earlier decision(surprise!) and now the lawsuit would be decided on the merits of the case which meant my testimony and signed deposition was important and needed. He also informed me that after a year and a half of unemployment Ravi Sardess was now employed by a foundry supply company and now they were going to take his deposition. It was very clear that my captors and tormentors believed in obtaining testimony through economic extortion. In other words, if you want to work, you will testify as “they” tell you to testify. “They” were definitely a criminal element. And, many years later, I learned that Ravi didn't get just a job, he was the company Technical Director.

“You are wasting your time; he'll sing the Gamma Supplies story now.” I told Cruz. “I don't know who is behind this, but they can move mountains and Ravi isn't about to testify against them.”

Cruz seemed oblivious to my comments and continued on as if nothing was wrong. I hung up feeling worse that ever. Not only was my testimony important, I had no place to turn.

MORE TERROR - NO ESCAPE

Dick on the other had was much more cynical and resentful. All his years of being at the bottom of the pecking order had left him with some deep bitterness towards the RAM system and that bitterness sometimes showed itself in directed hostility. In many ways, Dick had the same resentment toward the RAM system that many older veterans had, but Dick's personality was such that he tried to get back at the system every chance he got. I was the perfect target for his pent up hostilities and his need for revenge. Dick instructed me in the practical aspects of handling the problem material. While I worked well with Bill, he was to become one of my primary antagonists while I was employed at RAM.

The orchestrated harassment began to intensify in mid September and what I call cross-over events began to occur. Cross-over events were references at work about things which had occurred at home in my personal life. It was a form of torment which let me know that I had absolutely no privacy. And lack of privacy is a key element in mental torture.

Anita's father had been having some serious medical problems and had to be confined to a hospital bed. Since I would not allow a phone in the house because of because of the the annoying calls, Anita had to call her mother from a neighbor's house. Since every effort at work was made to be cruel to me, I made no mention of my father-in-law's medical problems for fear that it would be used to antagonize me. Then one day, Hun Wong from the sister Polymer Science Technology group and a close friend of Osama's stopped by my office.

“Hi, Russ.” He said. “How come you look so down?”

I was surprised that Hun(I believe another non-american) stopped by to talk to me because in general I was isolated and people avoided me. He was correct in that I was becoming depressed.

I responded, “Oh, I have some personal problems that are getting to me.”

“Yes, I heard you were having some personal problems and that your father was in the hospital and has been in serious condition.” He replied.

I didn't even question how he knew about my personal life. I was use to it by now. However, I have always been curious why he mixed up my father for my father-in-law. Maybe he just didn't get the story straight. I had not said anything to anyone and I could only assume his reference was to my father-in-law's medical condition. I should add that that was the only time Hun ever came up and talked to me.

My privacy at work was also invaded in ways similar to those used at Gamma Supplies. In fact, most of the techniques were the same, but no mention was ever made of Gamma Supplies. I still had the practice of leaving my briefcase on my desk and one day I came in my office and found it had been moved. I quickly checked through it to find a memo on Closteal letterhead! I had checked several times to make sure there were no references to Closteal in my briefcase, and now after finding by briefcase moved, there was a memo on Closteal letterhead prominently located in the file holder. This conjured up all sorts of fears about being fired for lying on the employment application. Of course, it reaffirmed that my briefcase was not a safe place to keep anything important. There would be many more threats toward my employment situation and most of them were much more direct. The purpose was the create FEAR, ANXIETY and more FEAR.


I continued to get annoying phone calls at work, and when I complained to my bosses they said it was just people getting the wrong number and nothing could be done. Terrorizing me by phone expanded to include letting me know that all my phone calls were being monitored. One day I had to call an old friend at a former company (pre Delta Oil) for some technical information for my current research project. As we talked I mentioned my Gamma Supplies problems and told him I was still considering a lawsuit against my former employer. After the conversation I went back to work and thought no more of it. About five minutes later I was walking by Don's office when he called me in. Don seemed more nervous than usual. He began by getting right to the point.

“Russ, I don't know what kind of problems you had with your former employer, but if you should decide to sue them, the RAM lawyers would have to see if you could remain employed here. I don't think that would be possible. But that's just in case you should decide to sue. Otherwise there are no problems.” I just stood there and didn't know what to say. The message was clear. My phone calls were being monitored as was everything else in my life and, I could not sue Gamma Supplies.

Also by telling me immediately after I had just made the phone call, the greatest conditioning terrorizing impact had been made. My behavior was being modified. From then on I would have to be very careful of what I said on the phone.

My boss Don Slewowski was a ten year RAM employee who had worked his way up the
ranks. He had started his career with Exon and came to RAM when the Fitville facility was being built up. Apparently, from the number of ex-Exon employees at RAM, they had raided Exon's technical staff in the late sixties to fill their expanding needs. Don was a very insecure person who always seemed to be on the edge of one disaster after another. Some of the disasters he seemed to create either through his own inadequacies or by design. Somehow I never felt he was sharp enough to be totally responsible for deliberately creating the disasters he would find himself in, but he did know how to take full advantage of the messes when they occurred.

After I had been at RAM for awhile, I found “crisis management” was a favorite game played not only by Don but most of RAM managers. “Crisis management” seemed to be the way managers got a sense of importance and visibility. The project I had been assigned to was a true crisis, and the failure of my area to solve the problem was causing major production problems to the point that the site manager, who would eventually become President Ronald Reagan's science advisor, was having weekly review meetings on the problem. Don loved the exposure, but he was totally unequipped to handle a problem of that magnitude. The crisis problem plus the problems created by my presence made me wonder if Don could take all the pressure.

My other daily contacts at work besides Don consisted primarily of Osama Ikill, my office partner, Klause Closeau, the Senior Scientist working on the problem I had been assigned to and Dick Sawyer, a laboratory technician who was doing a lot of the lab work for Klause.

Osama was an Armenian who had received his education in Lebanon and then came to the United States to attend graduate school at Cal Tech. Osama had many of the characteristics that Buzz had at Gamma Supplies, and Osama really did have that defiant attitude that seemed to characterize Buzz. What was clear was that Buzz was close to Don and a couple of the older employees in my area. For a new relatively new employee, Osama seemed to fit well in the highly political environment that existed at RAM. And being a non-American my tormentors loved using him to terrorize a native borne American – me. As with Buzz and others, to the ruling fascist government, American citizenship is of no value if you are poor.

Klause Closeau and Dick Sawyer were both old-time Ram employees, and they were close personal friends. Together they had taken a research material and made it a practical product for use in RAM's micro-chip manufacturing. In their haste to be successful they had overlooked or hidden some serious problems that the material had, and now that the chemical was in full scale use, the problems were becoming apparent and causing difficulties on the chip manufacturing line. To make matters worse, RAM was unable to manufacture the material in sufficient quantities to keep the chip manufacturing line going. Klause was a very capable chemist and very skillful at dodging the blame for the current predicament. Now I was being placed in the position of solving the problems that Klause, Dick and the rest of the RAM research staff was unable to solve. The problem had grown to such proportions that outside consultants, including Nobel prize winner Paul J. Flory, had been called in for advise. Although Klause resented someone intruding into his territory, I believe he was glad to have some capable help and to have someone else take the heat for a while.

I also had experienced a minor dental problem in August that required treatment by a dentist. I had experienced some sensitivity in a tooth and decided to have it checked out. I checked with the people in the lab and finally Don told me of a clinic near the RAM facility. A quick phone call and the fact that I worked for RAM which had complete dental insurance got me an immediate appointment.

The dentist diagnosed my problem as a hairline crack in a filling and fixing it would be no problem. He started to drill the tooth before putting in a small filling. As he drilled he kept pushing harder and harder against the back of the tooth. He was pushing so hard that I started to reach up with my hand to push him back when he exclaimed, “Oops, I just broke your tooth off. I'm going to have to give you a temporary filling now because a the regular filling is going to take a lot more work and time.” With that he gave me a temporary filling and told me to come back in a couple of weeks for a permanent one. The dentist seemed quite nervous about the whole incident, but I dismissed it at the time as a result of his having made a mistake. Later, I was so sure the whole incident was truly an
accident. I examined the tooth in the mirror and found the entire back half of the tooth had been broken off at the gum line. It was not a minor slip.

I began to express my doubts to my wife. “How can I be sure “they” didn't arrange to have my tooth broken. Their whole intent seems to be to inflict as much pain and frustration on me as they can.

I continued. “And you know how “they” work. The could have had this done to my tooth, or it could have been an accident. I just don't believe it was an accident because the dentist was pushing so hard I was ready to stop him, I said to Anita. I think it was deliberate, but I can't prove it.”

Anita just listened and said nothing.

Two weeks later, in early September I returned to the dentist to get a permanent filling. I had a noon time appointment in order to avoid missing any work. When I arrived the receptionist informed me there would be a slight delay because the dentist had an emergency. Just as I sat down, out of the dentist's office walked Don Slewowski. He smiled and said, “Hi Russ. I hope you don't mind my using your time, but when I called and found out this time was yours I convinced the dentist to fit me in.”

I was stunned. It was just too much of a coincidence that my boss should have an “emergency” on the same day and time that I had my appointment. And how did he know that the time was reserved for me?

When I went in to the dentist, he was visibly nervous and his hands were shaking. He gave me an examination and then filled the tooth he had broken. The filling was so large that it required a pin to hold it in place.

I was furious. I was convinced my broken tooth had not been an accident or at the very least, things had been orchestrated to make it look like it had not been an accident. When I went home that evening I decided to test Anita. I started by saying “Well the dentist fixed my tooth today and he gave me a complete examination. I'll bet you can never guess who was in the dentist chair when I got there."

Without even pausing, Anita replied. “Don Slewowski”.

“Yes,” I replied. “Some coincidence that he just happen to have an emergency today.”

Anita's response was reassuring because it told me that the coincidences were so obvious that she recognized them as such. After that part of the conversation I went on raving about how sick my tormentors were, and that I couldn't even afford to get sick because I didn't know if I would get proper medical treatment.

Fascist american Terrorism Starts Up Again After I Buy A House

The second problem arose at work in mid-August when I started arranging to have my
belongings shipped from Louisville to Fitville. We had decided to purchase the house wehad looked at and a completion date of the first of September had been given to us. By setting in motion the paper work to get our belongings, I thought the shipment could be made with little or no delay. However, the man at RAM shipping started giving me a bad time. He said he had to have two estimates. I told him that I already had an exact weight, the rates were federally regulated and the items were in storage with a carrier and that no other moving company would give me an estimate under those conditions. The man in shipping became adamant and totally unreasonable. He would not ship the items without two estimates. The issue was so ridiculous that I began to wonder if this wasn't some planned frustration like that I had so frequently encountered at Gamma Supplies.

My worst fears were confirmed soon after our house closing on August 30th. I was busily working in the laboratory when an RAM pen I had in my pants pocket began to leak. The ink stained my pants so I went looking around the laboratory for some dry cleaning chemicals. When I couldn't find any, I went into the adjacent laboratory and asked coworker Dick Sawyer to help me locate the chemicals. After some searching, we found what we were looking for and I began to clean my pants. Instead of cleaning though, the chemical spread the ink stain to an even larger spot.

“This doesn't seem to working to well.” I said. “I started with a small spot and now I have a large one."

“It doesn't seem to be doing much good. It looks like you're doing cloth chromatography instead of cleaning it.” Dick agreed.

I worked on the spot a little more and then went back into the other laboratory to continue working at the bench. About five minutes later, my boss, Don Sienkowski, came walking into the lab. I turned and said “hi” and then went back to my work. Don stopped beside me as if he wanted to talk, but I ignored him because I was busy. Finally, Don grabbed me by the arm and insisted I talk with him.

“I see you had some trouble with your pen.” He said.

“Yes,” I replied. “A good old RAM pen leaked all over.”

With that once again I turned back to my work, but Don continued. “I was on a trip in Chicago once and I had this nice white shirt on. A pen I had in my pocket started to leak and created a small black spot. Well, the fellow who was showing me around the lab got some acetone for me to use to remove the spot, but it just spread it out to a bigger one. It was like I did cloth chromatography rather than cleaning it.”

I just stared at Don. His insistence that he tell me the story and his choice of words was too much to be a coincidence. Don looked at me as if to say “do you get the message” and then continued his tour of the laboratory. I was left in a state of fear and anxiety. From that point on, coincidences abounded at RAM.

After that coincidence, I began to wonder about some other things that had occurred. When we had our house closing, I scheduled it at eight thirty on a weekday morning. About three days before the closing, Don came into my office to tell me he had scheduled an important meeting on my research project at exactly the same time my house closing was scheduled. It was a classic “no win”/psychological double bind situation. There was conflict created between attending my house closing and attending an important meeting at work. And, as I was to find out later, there was a general policy in the department not to
schedule any meetings before nine A.M., because many people like myself had flexible
working hours and some people did not show up for work until nine or later. I ended up spending a lot of time and effort to make sure my attorney could close on the house for meso I could attend my critical work meeting. At the time, I considered the whole incident an inconvenience.

Same ol'. Sameol';Just a different cast.

The thoughts of all the threats against my career and life seemed behind me. My physical health was rapidly improving and getting back to normal. Just the prospect of having a job again helped me forget that the six month hiatus had cost me over four thousand dollars in medical bills alone. I was looking forward to returning to work, but there was still apprehension about going back into the industrial environment.


Chapter IV

My adversaries.................applied the one means that wins the easiest victory
over reason: Terror and force. ADOLF HITLER

I had not told any RAM personnel or any one associated with our move to RAM that I worked ten weeks for CoSteal corporation. To try to explain what had occurred there would have been futile. As we packed for our journey to Fitville, NY, I was making sure there no records or documents that could be associated with CoSteal or Louisville in my possessions. As I was going through my briefcase to make sure there were no papers related to CoSteal, Anita walked into the bedroom.

She asked. “What are you doing?”

I replied. “I'm making sure there are no papers related to CoSteal that I would have to explain. You know that lying on an application is cause for dismissal. And make sure when you are there that you never say anything about Louisville or CoSteal to anyone.”

“Don't worry.” She replied. “I know better than that. Just to be safe, I'd better check my things too.

There were two things I wanted to make sure of before we left for New York. First, I checked to make sure the CoSteal diary was packed with my valuable papers and second, I took another look at the copy of the sworn statement I had. It still read the same and it was nowhere near what I had testified to. Since I wanted to make sure the sworn statement did not leave my sight, I packed it with the diary in my suitcase. The next day we left for Fitville, NY and RAM.

The first few weeks at RAM were normal. I was always on the alert for coincidences, but none occurred and those questionable incidences that did occur could be readily explained away. On one occasion I went to lunch with Don Slewowski, my first level manager and a couple of coworkers. During the meal I talked about the beautiful mountains on the west coast and the enjoyment I received by hiking through the woods. When I returned to my office, my office partner Osama Ikill, who had not been at lunch, started talking about how beautiful he found the mountains on the west coast when he lived out there. I dismissed his comment as being a true coincident.

The first signs of trouble started when I tried to buy a house. We were working with a real estate agent and found a house under construction that we were interested in. The agent suggested we talk with the builder as soon as possible. That evening Anita, the real estate agent and I went to the office of the builder. The agent introduced us.

“Tom, this is Mr. And Mrs. LaBar.”

We shook hands and the Tom the builder said, “Oh, this is the couple from Louisville.”


Anita and I just looked at each other with a shocked look, and then after a period of silence, the real estate agent nervously commented. “No, no! They are from Chicago and Mr. LaBar has just started working for RAM.”

The rest of the meeting went smoothly, but I left feeling “they”had been present and that Tom or the real estate agent knew more about us than I wanted them to know. Tom's comment was just too much of a coincidence.