Part 2: Thanks for the Memories..We're Off to See the Wizard....Uncle Charlie,Kissinger,Hope,and Their Little Puppet

Thanks for The Memories; Hope's and Kissinger's Mind Controlled Slave
Brice Taylor
Chapter Three: 

We’re Off to See the Wizard 

Common Mind Control Themes 

Hand signals are a common mode of control for victims of ritual abuse and mind control. There was a hand signal program I was taught when I was very little, that was sung to the song Frere Jacques, with the nursery rhyme, Where Is Pointer? The common song/game is played by singing; "Where is Pointer? Where is pointer?" And then you put up your pointer finger and say, "Here I am, Here I am. How are you, today sir? Very well, I thank you ...run away, run away..." Then you put your hands behind your back. I was taught the version: 

"Where is silencer?" With a finger held up to the lips commanding silence. 

"Where is kingpin?" With large pin inside the middle finger, that I was poked with just before singing, "run away, run away."

"Where is little man?" Holding up a pinky finger while singing, "Little man can't run away."

"Where is thumbkin?" Holding up a thumb and being thumped on the head while singing, "You can't run away." 

Wizard of Oz 

In conjunction with the traumas at church and school, my father reinforced my programming with the use of fairy tales, among them Disney themes and The Wizard of Oz. I watched the Wizard of Oz every year and at other times my programmers laced in other programs and hypnotic commands in a creative way that allowed the movie themes to keep me under control. Although I could not consciously remember what I was programmed to forget, this use of fantasy, used in an effort to keep amnestic and to scramble what I had actually participated in, was very effective ...almost foolproof. 

Sometimes in the middle of the night, after having watched the Wizard of Oz, my father would traumatize me in order to cause me to dissociate, which created the perfect trance state for programming. In this altered state, he would tell me that "over the rainbow" was a bridge to the "other" world, and that I could walk over the rainbow bridge into the other world and it would remain separate from my everyday world. He told me that what happened over the rainbow would feel unreal, like a dream. After encounters that I was supposed to forget, I was conditioned to the word "home." It began with "There's no place like home" being associated with being back in my bed, sleeping, after a night of being used in child pornography or prostitution. 

Later my mother, father, or others would say these words after my use in Washington, D.C. in the White House or other places I was sent under program. For years these words functioned as a way to reorient me back into my everyday world, without carrying back with me the reality of what had happened. I was instructed to, "sleep and wake up at home in my bed with the Land of Oz so very far away. That place that felt like a fairy tale ...that I must have made up ...was only a dream ...was now very far away." I was now on the other side of the rainbow and was conditioned to believe that those experiences never really happened, that they were only a dream. Later in my teen years all it took was for my mother or father to say, "Honey, you can sleep all the way home," and I was conditioned like Pavlov's dogs to respond to the word "home" with total and complete amnesia of what had just happened to me.

If my subconscious mind threatened to divulge the secrets, my father programmed me to "wake and eat chocolate chip cookies to remember to forget." And for years, the next 40 years, as this powerful programming commanded, I awoke out of a sound sleep if memory of this secret world seeped up as I entered first theta and then delta brain wave sleep patterns. Following program, I robotically walked into the kitchen to eat chocolate chip cookies in order to "re-mind" myself.

Another Oz theme that was used to program me was the song, "If I Only Had A Brain." During a programming session, a man whispered in my ear, telling me, "It's safer not to have a brain, it's easier not to have a brain; all you have to do to stay on track is to follow the yellow brick road. Then you won't be scared like the cowardly lion and you can keep your heart which you will need to get you down the yellow brick road to the land of glitter and gold, glitter and gold, glitter and gold. Follow the yellow brick road to somewhere over the rainbow way up high." In my trance state, this verse went deeply into my subconscious mind and was an ever vigilant internal reference to remind me to forget, and could be enforced by any of my controllers when the need arose to keep me from unlocking repressed memory. 

Alice in Wonderland was used as a theme to program in 'time awareness.' My programmers said, "See the rabbit who says, 'watch the watch, watch the watch,' and feel your eyes grow sleepy and tired so you can no longer watch the watch but you know it is always there ticking away, keeping perfect time. It knows what time it is so you won't ever have to worry about what time it is for the watch will keep perfect time. And now at the count of three I want you to wake up ...1, 2, 3..." he snapped his fingers, "and awake. Good girl!"

There were other programs based on fairy tales and Disney themes. Other survivors around the world have also reported many of these same common themes. 

Disneyland

When I was five years old my mother and father took me to the newly-opened Disneyland in Anaheim, California. As we walked down Main Street, we ran into Walt Disney and my father stood aside as Walt Disney, larger than life to me, bent down and shook my hand. He told me that if I would write to him he would write back to me. I didn't consciously remember anything else after that. What happened next, though, as I later recalled, was that Walt Disney looked at my father with eyes that said important things I couldn't understand. My father then led my mother in the other direction and I was left alone with Walt Disney. My parents never said goodbye or anything, they just left me and walked away. I was terrified and confused at realizing that my parents just disappeared. Walt took me to an office, lifted me up on a big desk that had a glass piece on top and told me that he was my real father. He said the Mickey Mouse Club was my real family--where I really belonged. Everyone was always telling me I belonged to a different family than my parents and I didn't understand, it was all very confusing. Walt Disney seemed nice but I wasn't with him very long. He called another man in and that man took me by the hand and led me away. This man was a very bad man and he really scared me. He took me into another room and gave me those viewmaster box glasses to look into. He showed me pictures in them that were so scary that other parts of me had to come to see them. It was too much for a little girl to see. Dead things--cut up bodies, dead cats skinned with big eyeballs and their tails cut off, people cut up, etc. We had that toy at home but mine had cartoon pictures in it. This event involved several of my personalities.

Next, the man took me to scary rides and poked me with needles in my waist and legs while he said things during the Alice in Wonderland ride, like, "This is not really happening. I am not really sticking this needle in your leg. You are just like Alice. You also ate the large mushroom and feel funny-- this is not real." He kept laughing and acting like all this was fun and games and really amusing, but it was terrifying and confusing to me, and I couldn't understand why he was hurting me. Parts of me split off as they withstood the abuse and I pushed the experiences deep into my subconscious mind as my programming dictated.

Then the man took me to Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and sexually abused me by taking off my panties and pushing me up and down on top of his penis while we were going through the dark, enclosed ride. During many years that followed, I got hurt on Mr. Toad's ride. I was instructed to be extra sexy and wild and crazy in order to be "good" and not get hurt. If I did it right and performed on cue, then I didn't get hurt when it was over. When we came out into the light from the darkened ride, it was over and if I did it right I could stop and go back to my Mommy. If I did it wrong, I had to do it all over again until I did it right. They always hurt me real bad if I made a mistake. I tried my best. It seemed like I had to stay at Disneyland for a long time, but at the end of the long day, I got to have a pretty balloon that I looked at as I laid in the back seat of the car all the way home. I was devastated, exhausted and out of it during the ride back to Woodland Hills, but looked up at the pretty Mickey Mouse ears balloon or the Mickey Mouse balloon within a balloon, before I finally fell into a long deep sleep.

We went to Disneyland yearly, often for birthday celebrations. On another visit, a suited man escorted me to the front of the Snow White ride. As he guided me on board the boat, he flashed a badge to the attendant and explained that he had special permission to take this special guest on the ride. We entered a boat and rode through the canals while he refrained the fairy tale themes. As we passed them by, he stuck needles in my thighs at different times after he finished a line about a story. All the classic fairy tales drifted in front of us--the Three Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf. He told me that the big bad wolf could always find me and get me, even if I was in the well-built brick house, and that the wolf could huff and puff and blow my house down. He told me my parents couldn't protect me from the wolf either because he was big and bad and wild. I can still hear the Big Bad Wolf song playing. The man kept poking me with the needle and it hurt. I kept watching his hand with the needle trying to anticipate the pain and he kept telling me the scary stories. I didn't know what to do and couldn't get away because we were in a boat and I couldn't get off. Then he almost choked me to death in the front of the boat but kept talking and telling me the fairy tales, as if nothing had ever happened. I was terrified.

Later on, in the dark of the night a man in a suit took me on the Matterhorn and stopped the rollercoaster ride at the waterfall where he told me everything that happened was washed away and gone forever. He made me get off the ride and stand on the rocks high up inside the Matterhorn all alone in the dark that night. I was really tired. He said they were leaving me there alone because I didn't do it right and I didn't listen well. I was terrified in the dark, wet, rocky area that was whooshing with the sound of the wind and cars from the ride speeding by. But it got even scarier when the area fell silent. Cold and tired, I was left totally alone for what seemed to my child self like forever. When the man finally came to get me, he asked if I was ready to be good. Then he said a lot of words while he carried me to my parents. Handing me, all limp and wet, over to my mother, he said, "She's asleep." My mother was crying, my father was smiling and the man in the suit said, "It's been done, she's now ready for the next level."

My father carried me out of Disneyland but stopped to buy me a Mickey Mouse balloon to look at, to, as he said, "remember the good time you had." Disneyland was never really fun; there was always pain and torture.

Another night at Disneyland I climbed the steps to the Swiss Family Robinson Tree House. Once inside one of the rooms a man grabbed me, slapped my face really hard and flashed a bright light in my eyes. He said, "Your mother is not your real mother, your father is not your real father. You are made of much greater things, so great in fact that Walt Disney would claim you for his own. So remember what I've said about who your real parents are." When he was finished with me I climbed down from the treehouse, sobbing hysterically with each and every step. My mother was waiting for me at the bottom and took me over to the Fritos snack stand to try to get me calmed down.

It's A Small World ride was purposefully used to create the reality in my mind that I was really just on a ride at Disneyland when later I was taken to foreign countries for use. The programming that blossomed up into my conscious mind after such travel was that I was merely at Disneyland. One day my father accompanied me into the international phone display. I picked up many of the colored phones and listened to the different languages and my mom stood close by while my father appeared to walk away. 60 But my father really hid behind the phone display and talked like he was sending a message through the phone. Initially, I thought it was someone else talking to me through the phone, someone who mysteriously knew my name. When I caught on that it was my father, I knew better than to let on and continued with the charade. Soon a man in a Disney uniform came and linked arm in arm with me like the characters do in the Wizard of Oz, and escorted me over to the main headquarters near the dog kennels. 

On another trip, I was taken on the Jungle boat ride at Disneyland at night. It was very dark and I noticed that no one was in line as my parents guided me through the area where people normally waited to enter the ride. We were all alone and I was terrified, anticipating what was to occur next. I had learned early on, and knew at a very deep subconscious level that my parents were of no protection to me; instead they were often the very ones that delivered me to very terrifying people, experiences and places. This night was no different. I was taken to the very back of the boat and a man in a dark suit emerged, and said, "I will take it from here," at which point my father took my mother by the elbow and escorted her robotically away. I was afraid.

"Laura," the man called out. Laura was my school personality who was programmed to be cooperative and helpful. He said, "Laura, I need your help so that things run very smoothly tonight." 

"Yes, sir." I replied, now switched to Laura.

"I want you to turn around 7 times and I will be tying a rope around your waist so we don't lose you here tonight."

I couldn't imagine how I was about to get lost on this big boat, but I complied as he tied the rope around my waist and as commanded, I began turning as he counted, "One, two, buckle my shoe, no, three, four, shut the door. The door to your mind, that is, five, six, pick up sticks, and ...seven will do the trick." I didn't know what the trick was but I was soon to find out. "Here, now you just sit down right here," as he pointed to a place at the back of the boat, while he held onto me with the rope like I was a dog on a leash. Before I knew exactly what was happening he lifted me up and plunged me into that cold, dark water. As I hit the water, I was sure that the alligators that I'd seen earlier that day on the Jungle Cruise were going to get me and eat me alive in the dark. The boat was going and I was being dragged behind it. I held onto the rope so that I could stay facing forward. Reminding me of the Wizard of Oz programming theme, the man yelled, "Lions and tigers and bears, oh my." Then pointing into the dark water near me, he tapped into the Peter Pan theme I was also programmed with as he anxiously warned, "I believe there's an alligator there on your left, no I mean on your right, right there behind you, he's swimming right up behind you on your other left." I was frantically panicked; and in an attempt to make it all go away I squeezed my eyes as tightly shut as I could, and held onto the rope for dear life.

"You're a very strong little girl," he called out, "just like your father told me you were. You know, the survival of the fittest." Then he began to reel me back in and lifted me up by the rope as I climbed over the railing to get back on the boat. "You passed that test with flying colors! Your father said that this test would be easy for you."

I felt numb and my teeth were chattering from the cold. My dress was all wet and so were my shoes and socks and panties. I was freezing. My father always did talk to me about the 'survival of the fittest' and how I would be strong.

"You could fly like Tinkerbell does, across the sky at night attached to this rope like you are. Should I leave it on so that you can fly with Tinkerbell tonight, high up in the sky?"

"No, sir," I replied looking down at the rope and shivering. He laughed real loudly. "You know that you fly with her every time you see her fly; you fly high, high away from all the things you think you remember here, but none of those things really happen; they are all just figments of your imagination. Do you know what figment's are?"

I shook my head no.

"Figments are fruit that you eat. And you have enjoyed all the rides here tonight and had a lot of fun and now it is almost time for you to go home. You know, like Mickey says in the song, "Now it's time  to say good-bye to all our company, M. I. C. K. E. Y. M. O. U. S. E.; you know the song on TV, the one that you hear when you watch the Mickey Mouse Club? 

"Yes," I said, now in total hypnotic, robotical program.

"When you see Tinkerbell and all the beautiful fireworks here tonight, you will remember the good and only the good things that happened here today and tonight. All the good will float up into your conscious mind just like Tinkerbell flies high in the sky, so will all the good things [that happened] fly high up into your conscious mind. You have had the best day here at Disneyland and want to return as soon as you can for more fun."

In a complete hysterical panic, my mother rushed up and threw her arms around me as if she was rescuing me. She threw some sort of dark cloth over me, and she and my father took me off the boat. She took me into a bathroom to change clothes near the Jungle boat ride. My mother ushered me into a stall and began changing my clothes without closing the door behind us. I was embarrassed. A lady came into the restroom and my mom said to her, "My daughter fell into the water and we are changing her clothes." 

No wonder it has been difficult, at times, for me to trust my own awareness, even as an adult.

One night, my programmers decided I was to actually replace the real Tinkerbell in flight over the park at night in the dark. The men in park uniforms walked up behind the real Tinkerbell who was actually an older lady and this night she was in costume, ready to fly. The men told her to step aside, that I was going to fly that night. I didn't know where my mom and dad went and I was cold and scared. The woman was very angry. She wanted to do her job and yelled at the men but they told her just to relax, that she would still get paid and that no one would have to know she didn't fly and she could go home early and still collect her paycheck. Still angry she left and the men dressed me in a white Tinkerbell costume and strapped me into the flight harness. After I was secured, a man asked me if I was ready. He showed me where to hold onto the front straps so I wouldn't get my hands or arms ripped off while I was flying high above the Magic Kingdom. The whole experience was terrifying. They must have given me a drug because everything appeared to be in lots of pictures like a camera with a whole circle of lenses of the same picture, like a kaleidoscope. As I flew, I felt afraid that I would fall out and splat below on everyone, but after a little while I became numb. I could no longer think or feel. I must have fainted because when I got to the other end of the sky ride, a few men removed the harness and tried to get me to come to. One man slapped me but that didn't even wake me up, then someone else put smelling salts under my nose and I woke up. I don't remember much else except I couldn't walk very well and had to be carried out of Disneyland. That night there were no stops on Main Street to get toys or a balloon or candy. I felt sick and laid in the back of our old Buick until we got home. My brothers didn't go with us, it was just my mom and dad and me. My father said I was the 'star' of the family. I didn't like being the star if that's how it was, but he seemed very excited about it.

Twin Sister Programming

My neighbors, my "second mother" Mary and her daughter Peggy, took me to a Hollywood theatre to watch The Parent Trap, a 1961 Disney Movie starring Hayley Mills. The theme of this movie helped to shape the reality of my inner "twin sister," Sharon. I was Susan and my twin sister was Sharon. This Sharon personality was created in an attempt to further split my mind and was anchored within my personality structure in order to house a vast reservoir of experiences with the elite. Sharon was to identify herself with "high society."

Now of course, my inner twin sister Sharon also had to have programming experiences at Disneyland. To accomplish that our neighbor Mary took me to Disneyland with her daughter Peggy, who was my age. At one point we visited the beautiful Magic Castle that is located in the middle of the Magic Kingdom. As I walked through the Castle, exploring the area, I rounded a corner and as I stepped into a darkened area, a man in a black cape that had been hiding in a dark corner of the castle stepped forward and grabbed me. He put his hand over my mouth so I wouldn't scream and he elbowed me in the stomach before he raped me. Then he took me in the direction of the dog kennels in the front of Disneyland where other bad things happened. Every year, Sharon had to watch the "President Show with Lincoln" that played in a theatre on Main Street and in order to keep her secret experiences hidden from her conscious mind, this twin sister part of me also had to be exposed to many of the same kinds of trauma. 

Sharon was created to be Catholic, and Mary and Peggy often took me with them to Catholic mass. (They didn't know about my connection to Henry Kissinger.) I was taught about Holy Water and genuflecting and the Stations of the Cross and Confession and Hail Marys and saying the Rosary. Peggy let me borrow her rosary beads that had a little blue enamel picture of the Blessed Mary on it. I learned to say, "Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with thee," over and over again for each bead. We always had to wear a hat or a scarf. They had a lot of rules you had to follow. Had to get that Holy Water and dab it on yourself at your Stations of the Cross; forehead, heart then each shoulder, before you genuflected upon entering the pews. Then we knelt down and said the Rosary for a very long time. With my childlike consciousness, I thought it was a dumb thing to do and kept asking everyone why we had to say that and what it would do, but all everyone ever said was that I asked too many questions. During the many times I attended mass with Mary and Peggy, I silently prayed to the statue of the Blessed Virgin and asked her to help me, although I was unable to "think" about why I needed help.

Sharon was a "child of the elite" and later on, serviced the elite, such as the Rockefellers. She was often the sexually-oriented personality when I was used for sex and mind file work. "Sharon" was my highly sexual counterpart and "Sue" contained the messages in mind files.

To further my split conditioning, there was a small stone building in a cemetery where the men in suits locked me in for the whole night. They took my clothes away from me, pushed me into the dark room and closed the door. It was cold on the concrete floor and I could feel spider webs in the corners. It was scary, so I just sat down on my feet in the corner, hugged my legs to my body and closed my eyes. 

After awhile, an angel appeared. She said her name was Maria and that I was being prepared for the future. She said that she and other angels would help me and I would be "sustained." I didn't know what that word meant but felt like it was okay because I felt so much love from her. While my spirit self was sitting next to her on a bench, my physical body was still in that concrete room. She told me she would be very close to me later when I was older and could understand more. She explained that these people were unkind because they didn't understand, but that my angel friends loved me very much and would be there whenever I needed them. All of a sudden, before I was ready to leave her, I was back in the cold concrete cubicle, still sitting squatted on my feet and she was gone. I felt like I had traveled somewhere and I wanted to go back there because it didn't hurt and wasn't cold there, but I couldn't figure out how to get there. I had to wait for the angel to escort me. Everyone was always escorting me everywhere--on earth and in heaven. When the men came to let me out, it was still dark and they dropped me off at home. Entering the breezeway, I went through the back door, into my room and went to sleep. 

The Golden Arches

Now of course, in order to insure that Sharon's memory was kept separate from my conscious mind, trauma had to be induced to create the dissociative barrier. Among other traumas, I was taken to St. Mel's Catholic Church in Woodland Hills and was molested by a short fat "Father," at the back of the church in a side room. This priest who spoke with an Irish accent and smelled like alcohol, pulled my hair while he sexually satisfied himself in my mouth. When he was finished with me, two men in suits escorted me to an awaiting limousine. I had short hair and wore a felt poodle skirt, flats, white socks and a white blouse. It wasn't unusual to see limousines lined up in front of this large Catholic church for use at funerals or weddings. It was nearing dark and once out of sight of the public, these men were very rough with me. They threw me into the back seat and once inside the limo I laid on the seat in a fetal position, rocking myself, terrified out of my mind. 

Arriving at the new McDonald's, one man told me, "Look at the Golden Arches, they are your Highway to Heaven. Whenever you enter to cross over, you won't remember having been here." I went in as Sue and after I was drugged I came out as Sharon. I had no awareness that Sharon was me. In my internal, subconsciously created reality, I believed Sharon to be my physically separate, twin sister, but consciously I had no knowledge of any other part of me except Sue. All I knew was there were lots of times when I was told that I would be allowed to see my twin sister, my secret twin sister. I felt sad. I missed her desperately and I felt that she was always in danger and needed me. The man who was present to create this part of my programming was a very affluent and locally well-known and respected Catholic OB/GYN doctor, named Dr. McGinnis. He told me that I could find my twin sister in the bathroom, so I ran there to find Sharon. The doctor and another man followed me as I ran into the small one room bathroom that I entered from outside McDonald's, in tears desperate to find my twin sister. Once inside, as directed, I looked around and came out and told the doctor that he could come inside, that there was no one else there. I felt very robotic. Entering the small bathroom with me, he locked the door behind us and told me to sit on the floor in the corner of the stall. I did as he instructed. He took my arm and put it up on the toilet lid, slipped a rubber cuff around my arm and got a big needle out. As he injected the drug into my arm he commanded, "count backwards from three." 

"One..." I started.

"NO!" The doctor yelled angrily. "I said backwards, starting from three."

"Three, two," I slumped over and passed out.

He began slapping my face and I couldn't wake up but he called out, "Sharon, Sharon, Sharon."

Finally after lots of slapping, Sharon said, "Yes."

"Get up and walk out to the car." The doctor commanded. Sharon obeyed.

He carried his black doctor's bag and we took off as soon as he got into the limo. I overheard him say to the driver that if he ever got caught he would just take his black bag and say he was on an emergency, that way no one would ever question him. 

We drove down Ventura Boulevard to a jewelry store. The doctor and I went in, myself still switched to my twin sister Sharon. He told the store owner I was looking for a present for my mother, but I wasn't really. These people always told lies. He put a diamond bracelet on my arm and said, "You're used to jewels, remember?"

"Yes," I said, smiling. It was true that Sharon was used to riches.

"That is all you need to remember, that you're used to jewels." As we turned to leave, he called out to the owner at the other end of the store to say that we were finished shopping.

Next, I was dropped off at a big house somewhere and taken downstairs to be filmed in child pornography. There were men in leathers and chains with guns. A man ripped my clothes off and sodomized me while another guy watched as it was filmed. Then I was chained up, whipped and filmed more. They liked it when I cried out. They said I had to, in order to make a good film, but I really wanted to be quiet and keep all to myself so it would ruin the film. They put a baby on a wooden table and killed her while I was being raped and they said her lifeblood was filling me and that I liked taking the baby's life into me. I didn't really. I didn't want them to hurt the baby, ever. But I had to smile and laugh while they filmed it or they said I would be killed, also. They made these snuff films often with babies or little girls. "The younger, the purer," the men said. They believed fetuses were the best to get the purest untouched lifeblood. They often ingested the flesh afterwards, and sometimes the heart, while it was still beating. It was terrifying, vile and disgusting. And they fed it to me for the filming. I was always forced to smile.

After it was all over I was taken by limo back to McDonald's, into the same bathroom where some man snapped his fingers in front of my face and said, "Susie, you've fainted," which, by calling out that name, switched me back into my conscious personality. Once revived, these men drove me to my street, dropped me off and told me to walk the highway to heaven into sleep. In program trance, I walked the short block home, went through the breezeway into the back door, and climbed into my bed. It was dark outside but the yellow porch light was on and I knew my way through the house with my eyes closed.

That night, alone in my bed, I said the prayer I usually said with my mother or my grandmother each and every night, "Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom His Love commits me here. Ever this day be at my side. To light and guard, to rule and guide."

I beg of you, dear reader, to be open to the possibility that these sorts of atrocities did happen, and that they are still happening to other children today, even right now at this very moment. Please open your heart and know that this could be true so together we can all put a stop to the abuse that terrifies and threatens to destroy the children. 

McDonald's was often a part of my abuse whether I was in California or later away from home when after use in different states or countries, they took me to "The Golden Arches" and 26 gave me coke (later aspartame-infused diet coke with a twist of lemon) and french fries. McDonald's was a very powerful program for repressing events of national and international usage.

The Foundation is Built

By the tender age of five, I was conditioned through torture and high tech hypnotic text and electroshock, to hurt myself in many ways should I begin to remember the secret activities, was a part of. Per programmed suggestion, if I began to remember I would stub my big toe or burn myself on the stove, thereby removing my focus from the remembered secret experience and rerouting my attention to my wound. I was instructed where to cut my wrist in order to take my own life, should I begin to remember or tell. There were also accident programs instilled to insure my death if I began to remember. Endless programs were installed into in my life that were available for later use in suppressing my hidden activities. 

Over the years, I was told the following while I was being tortured, in and you remember, you will kill yourself; if you tell, people will think you are crazy and will lock you up in a mental institution; if you don't obey us, we will kill your family or your dog and if you tell, we will kill you." I had witnessed killings for years and knew these were not idle threats.

My programmers also created within me, reporting personalities that were instructed to tell on me in regard to anything I did that was stepping out of line. This common feature of mind control is reported by many survivors.

"He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." 

--Matthew 18:2-4 

"See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven." 

-- Matthew 18:10-11 

Chapter Four: 

Uncle Charlie, Kissinger, Hope 

and their Little Puppet. 

My Inner Twin Sister, 

Sharon Weatherby

I was paraded in many circles as a child, as Sharon Weatherby, and sitting on the fringes watching me was my Uncle Charlie. He told me that he would always be there, rain or shine.

Uncle Charlie was always at my father's Aunt Maude's when we went to visit her, just dad and me. He would be waiting for us on her little couch with the lace coverlets, the sheer curtain behind holding a green chameleon lizard that I thought was real until I got older. All decked out in a tan suit, his Dapper Dan shoes and a carnation in his lapel, Uncle Charlie smiled, shook my hand and winked at me. If he had on glasses, he would take them off to make sure I caught the wink and that was my cue to keep the secret. He told me before that it would hurt my father's feelings if he knew he wasn't really my father so I shouldn't ever mention it. "Otherwise," he said, "it would likely break his heart." I sure didn't want to hurt my Daddy anymore than he already was with his neck injury, slipped disk and parents who abused and didn't love him. And he loved me so much, unless he had to hurt me. Uncle Charlie said, "Unfortunately he has to do that to make you powerful one day." So when I met Uncle Charlie with my father the first time, I never let on that I knew him. Later Charlie said, "Young lady, that was the finest acting job I've ever seen. You're hired!"

Well I was "hired" at a very young age, but was never paid a cent. And Uncle Charlie was my representative, come to take me to meet first, Bob and, soon after, Henry. Sharon was indeed programmed to be precocious and one day reported the following joke repertoire to Henry and later to audiences Bob and Henry sent me to:

"I told my owners, it's enough that you clowns expect me to work for free. You know it was bad enough that they broke the child labor laws and I told them about that when I learned it in school. They just laughed. But on top of that was SLAVE LABOR, and I recited the Constitutional Amendment that was causing a problem in my internal mind file legal systems. I told Henry it kept getting thrown out and I pretended it was repeatedly escaping and leaping out of my right ear. He thought I was funny and told me to refile it anyway - then I was sent off for more reconditioning. I never thought they would stop with that stuff and I was right. Zap, zap, zap."

These were the type of jokes that Bob Hope programmed into me for shows when I was demonstrated to others that had similar mind control "interests." The first time I recited it to Henry for his approval, he raised his eyebrows and looked at me over his glasses; he usually seemed either pretty amazed or leery at the jokes Bob installed into me. I was too young and too fragmented to have come up with this type of material on my own.

In later years when people would ask Bob where I came from, Bob jokingly told them I was picked off a conveyor belt. He always teased about where I came from. Bob told me once that he chose me because there was that little something special that he saw in my eyes.

Henry created my personality system and Bob handled the dialogue, jokes, songs, dances, and entertainment, and supplied Henry with famous friends and connections from all over the world, including Hollywood celebrities and business and political connections. Henry said contacts were everything, and that he and Bob worked well together because, despite their differences, together they more than doubled their influence and efficiency. They did wield influence over a large group of people. Henry had the mind and Bob had the means and the connections.

Creating My Inner Universe

Henry worked with me more in the beginning to set up all my systems. He even marked my forehead all over with little x's delineating what he called a "stellar map" of my system. Then he had me look into the mirror and what I saw, in addition to my little five or six year old face, framed by short hair, was black x's all over me. He said those were planets within my inner universe of knowledge and that they were laying in wait for the day they would be occupied. Later he attached the foreign countries, using It's a Small World for the different planets. This kept the information totally separated since the planets had no way of communicating with each other. So all the information remained self-contained but held in orbit in the big blue vastness by stars. All the stars were used as mind files for different movie "stars" or politicians I was used with. The larger stars held larger files of personalities I was used with more regularly and the smaller stars were reserved for people I only saw on occasion. The largest stars were reserved for Presidents, Kings, Queens, etc. The Council, that all-powerful group of men secretly orchestrating this whole drama, had very specialized, highly advanced satellite systems that traveled all over inside my mind, constantly monitoring my internal "worlds." They could also access intracellularly or interplanetary and gain access to any information they wanted about any area or person in the system. Council members were the only ones who didn't have any security blocks throughout the system anywhere. They had full and total access like Henry. Bob's access was limited only by his ability to be able to fully access every part of the system. Henry just didn't inform Bob about planets or stars he didn't want him to know about. And Henry told me that he and Uncle Bob rode on little space cycles all around inner space in my head in order to police everything and make sure everything was always in perfect order, with no file on any planet or star ever getting out of order or loose. That way Henry kept my mind files in perfect order. Henry told me the mind files are limitless because the universe is limitless and contains an infinite vastness, always new areas to chart. Henry said it could never be full. 

Kissinger And Ever More 

Sophisticated Programming

Kissinger was the mastermind behind my personality structure, and used others to further his creation. He was usually inside the top security places my father and others took me. There they did all the "prep work," they called it, before I was taken to Henry for his expertise. Prepping, to me, meant torture in machines, chairs, all sorts of horrors and then, when I couldn't function any longer, didn't know my own name, or if I was even real, they would take me to Henry. Henry had a notebook of diagrams he worked from. A "distilled" diagram meant that the original idea and intent had been identified and worked out, and the succeeding diagrams were a further refinement until the end result was total perfection. That's how Henry created my personality structure. Mind control was a secret weapon that he perfected over the years.

Henry had other "robots," as he called them, but I was the one with whom he spent the most time perfecting. He said I was the perfect subject and that my father had done such a great preliminary job that his work was guaranteed a success, where other robots fell short because they "bled through" and so couldn't be relied upon. I knew Henry had other robots because he said he had them for various and sundry things but said that I was the cream of the crop.

Henry said we had a "roving headquarters," and that was always his black briefcase. When I saw his briefcase I was programmed to feel familiar, and my surroundings didn't matter. I could now do my work knowing that everything was okay. At least that is what was suggested for me to think and feel.

As I grew older, I was taken to military bases for more sophisticated programming. Helplessly hooked up to high tech machines that did things to my brain, I had no way of understanding what these people were doing to me or why. I was placed in large metal chambers and left in isolation, sometimes spun, with colored lights, always with only one color at a time. I was restrained in sophisticated chairs with electrodes attached to my head, then electroshocked in a variety of ways. Sophisticated audio equipment also was used on me. Often loud, piercing sounds were relayed through earphones, usually  with different sounds being fed into each ear. I didn't know what exactly they were accomplishing with all of this technology, but I felt tortured by it.

Mind File System

I also continued to be taken to Disneyland for base programming for my government mind file system. At around 8 years old, Henry made up some clever programs to create a place and organization in my head for my international mind files. He created within my personality system one or two children for each nationality; as is similarly portrayed in It's a Small World ride at Disneyland. Henry said the international themes were to anchor in different mind file systems that he said were "culturally oriented." Around The World In 80 Days was a song I sang over and over again when either my mother or my brother played it on the organ or my brother would play it on his accordion. The words I was programmed to respond to were, "Around the world in 80 days, I traveled on when Hope was gone to make my rendezvous..." Henry Kissinger and Bob Hope continued to be cohorts over the years and played around the world with people and governments, as much as that song played repeatedly in my head. 

Henry linked a whole array of different programs to the It's a Small World ride and said, "When you walk up to the clock you will hear it tick-tock and then you will dock; tick-tock, ticktock. Keep all information separate. Keep all information clean and neatly in its space with little walls in between." I walked up to the ride, and saw the huge clock tower going tick-tock, then I was told to file through the turnstile until I got to the ride. Henry meant for me to think my actual trips abroad were really just memories about this ride. Due to this programming I had trouble distinguishing reality from fantasy. Disney fantasy was really meant to hide my international experiences from my conscious mind.

Once I got off the ride Henry said something hypnotic to me to lock in the program. He spent a good part of the day with me at Disneyland. He was really funny to the personalities he was programming. I almost laughed when I first saw him. I knew it wasn't allowed, but he did look really funny in the disguise. He had on a beard, wig and hat. He looked okay, but I knew it was really Henry, and so I said, "Henry, why are you wearing those silly things?" I couldn't comprehend why he needed to pretend he wasn't himself.

In his thick-accented, deep, monotonic voice, he told me to be quiet and with irritation in his voice said, "You, my child, are too precocious."

Henry put me on ride after ride, and after I got off the rides, dizzy, nauseated, lightheaded, disoriented, frightened, or whatever, he told me to "listen intently," while he programmed all sorts of things into my mind file system.

"My Name Is Henry Sims"
Henry bought me popcorn and a balloon, too, just like my parents did in order to lock in the program. If people had known that Henry Kissinger was there at Disneyland that day, they would have been very surprised. And if I were the cause of him being recognized, I would surely have been terminated. I was never to allude to being associated with Henry Kissinger. Henry gave me a lot of mixing up on that agenda by having me read "Henry books and cartoons," in his attempt to keep his identity anonymous to my conscious mind. He attempted to scramble my association to him by having me read a variety of books; one was about Henry and the donut machine. He was always whispering, "My name is Henry Sims," in my ear, so no one else could hear him. He also had me eat "Oh Henry" candy bars and read "Oh Henry" cartoons, after he'd given me a hypnotic command to wipe away all memory of him while I was reading or eating the above.

Sometimes Henry would drive us to a parking lot, where we got out and walked some distance to a shopping center or a waterway. Each time we were together, he usually wore a different type hat (sometimes a Dick Tracy one) and a stick-on mustache and/or beard. He used to have a square mustache and a square goatee to match. He wore those off and on. Henry was a master of disguise and could keep his roles straight. He seemed very smart to me as a child.

In the early days, Henry would tell people, "She's a smart cookie, isn't she?" That was when I was about 10, just before my big political White House sexual liaisons were to begin. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Carousel Program
Henry also programmed me in front of a carousel ride. He had me stand in front of the carousel but he wouldn't let me sit down on a horse or a bench on the ride. I was only 8 years old or so and I wanted to get on the ride and have fun, but Henry said I had to stand up outside of the ride. That day, the carousel in my mind had to be created with me standing up and the files in my mind were to glide smoothly and as easily as the carousel turning. Then it would come to a stop, like the wheel of fortune, at the country in the mind file that Henry would ask for. He told me, "There's a whole other world in your mind files, the whole world." Then he told me, "The carousel makes the files in your head turn easily and effortlessly." My programmers also linked memory of times I was spun until I was dizzy and disoriented in their attempt to keep these mind files under the cloak of national security. As I deprogrammed I often mentally bumped into spin, sleep, suicide, migraine, and drug programs that I had to fight through in order to get to the original experiences. I was often physically sick, as my program dictated, and suffered massive migraine headaches and pain in different parts of my body while retrieving this information I'm sharing with you. 

Henry told me, "You are a computer and like magnets repel, if you try to work on a computer, your mind will repel. It will go away and you won't be able to think to operate it. That is of course unless it's "apple blossom time," which was a cryptic reference to New York. Later he programmed in "cherry blossom time," as a code for JFK. In 1991, some 30 years later, as I attempted to document my memories on computer from the island of Kauai, I was continually frustrated, as I would become disoriented upon starting to write my remembered experience. Often after I tenaciously battled my way through the journalizing of my memories, I would smile having won, only to become immediately disoriented, and look again the next moment to find that the information I had just spent one to two hours documenting had been erased by another part of my personality structure who was still following the ordered command of my controllers. It was extremely frustrating, but I was stubborn and refused to give up!

Inner Clock Program
Henry programmed in reporting personalities so he could use them to debrief me in order to access the data he carefully requested I acquire on certain targeted information or individuals. He created a very sophisticated system that allowed me to have an inner clock that not only kept perfect time but, when asked, I delivered the time audibly, and also knew the times around the world and could even record and playback the time that events occurred for me each day. Henry would ask me, "What did you do between the hours of 8 and 5 on June 5th?"

I would recite, "At 8 a.m. I woke up, at 9 a.m. I took a shower, at 10 a.m. I saw so and so..." At anytime Henry could check the inner record to find out where I'd been, who I was with, and what I was saying or doing. He instructed the set-up to house, "who, where and what," and be able to enter "the schedule recording file" into the framework of the base program.

My most important job was to drop the message to people he sent me to, at the right time. Henry said timing was everything. So he taught me to drop messages at the perfect time and to look into the person's eyes and notice other facial mannerisms and how he or she was breathing. He said I would get it like "perfect clockwork." That was the actual name of a mind file category, to list and recite all the different world times so Henry would know exactly what time it was in each and every country in the world anytime he would ask me - and all this time and place orientation looped back into the It's a Small World ride and the Clock Tower programming.

Henry could remember file names and numbers better than anyone could. He always remembered the major ones all in his head. He had a small notebook where he kept track of other mind files; large lists for intricate blueprints, classified documents, and detailed listings under subheadings. The system of files he created was multi-leveled and multi-tiered, like a wedding cake. Henry told my respective personalities how it looked overall and created a picture in our head so we could see how it worked from inside. We also had an inside "teacher" that we could hear inside the head to teach, remind, command and organize. This teacher was important and worked inside subconsciously and separately with Henry, until I was thirty-six or so, when a chiropractor inadvertently connected my conscious mind up to my inner teacher, who later ultimately helped lead me to freedom. The result was that Henry's inner teacher program was made conscious and I was taught to my conscious mind what was previously subconscious, thus, my conscious and subconscious minds were linked together making the program even stronger and accessible to learning information from others. So, I was then consciously able to realize I was assigned my "inner teacher" and "inner guides," who really were just code names for projects or areas I was involved in. Then, I began to hear the codes consciously and it was activating subconscious personalities or material in my mind files. But once again I am getting ahead of myself. 

Chess Anyone?
Henry played games with me; chess, checkers, tic-tac-toe, and concentration; all mind games "to create other files and nooks and crannies to store files," Henry said. He set up a system with a chess game that was intended to house cryptic messages between Henry and others. The Council contacted Henry and built a very strong relationship with him through lengthy discussions and information they sent to him through messages encoded in my mind file system.

Over time, Henry wooed them by creating very sophisticated (yet simple for the intelligent) ways of communicating through the coded chess game where each piece had a very specific meaning that he taught me to memorize in order to relay the code. Over time the secret players knew what the moves meant by heart. They were time worn. "You see the chess board like a clock and all the pieces are recognized in a clockwise motion," Henry instructed me under his hypnotic command. When the chess board was set up, all Henry (or the Council) had to do was to make a move on the chess board and I would memorize and carry the move, containing the cryptic message, back and it would be understood what was meant by the communication. Unilateral wars were directed; the players in the game of war were clearly demarcated. There were no mistakes because everything was programmed and crosschecked like a computer. My mind was programmed and catalogued like a machine, so there could be only absolute precision.

The chessboard was a bridge to the "other world" where my controllers all existed, "like when Dorothy went to Oz," I was told. Henry and Bob and Governor (later President) Reagan and the others were to be seen like Dorothy's friends and family--they existed over the rainbow while my mom and dad and friends were where Auntie Em lived, in the real world. "So just like in the mirror, everything is just the opposite of what you see. Like Sleeping Beauty looking into a pool of clear water and seeing her beautiful reflection, you will go over the rainbow, melt into it." "Over the Rainbow" was always going toward the world that was like Oz, that pretend world of Henry Sims and Bob. Everyone was on the other side, all I had to do was "walk through the liquid mirror to face the other side and that will immediately switch you and turn you around to face a new situation, calm, refreshed and invigorated. Every move, smooth and efficient," Henry instructed me.  

The Older Look
Henry created many personalities inside of me who were programmed to be older and wiser than my young years, for his use with others. These personalities were formed and created by watching different selected movies as a child, like My Fair Lady. This was necessary, I overheard Henry tell others, in order to use me at 10 years old, passed off to others as a 16-18 year old. Since I was physically developed by 10 years old, they could pull it off, especially by creating very mature personalities to handle some of their very important clients. By that time I began having my hair done professionally once a week. My hairstyle was short and "chic," was the word Henry used. He needed to provide me with an older look and, in those days, everyone needed me to be older looking, older acting, older everything. My hair was professionally styled every week, in order to more smoothly portray the very mature, polished personalities that he and others helped create for their use. One obstacle was during the time I had my braces on. At that time, there were occasions when I would be taken to my orthodontist, James Mulick, DDS., a UCLA graduate, and late at night, he would remove my front braces and then a day or two later after my use was over, he would replace them. Like everyone else, he was probably also under programming.

In those days, Henry accessed information from my mind files with needles that he stuck in between my knuckles, though never in public. When we were at a meeting or in a public place he just touched my hand to put me into a mind file mode, then he would cue me with key/code numbers to access the specific files he wanted. Later, he used a "time clock theme" and fortunately for me he abandoned the use of needles. 

Over time, many personalities were specifically created and enhanced for future use with targeted people, such as presidents, entertainers or foreign leaders. There were "president mind files" that were created strictly for the President's use in whatever way they needed or wanted. I was instructed to wear pearls for times I was to be used strictly as a mind file, and diamonds when I was to be used primarily sexually with presidents, heads of state or world leaders.

I can still hear Henry's voice giving me the commands, with his thick heavy accent he said, "Your eyes are getting so sleepy a train wouldn't rattle you. Now when you are deep asleep you will be able to retain vast reservoirs of information for safekeeping and retrieval by me and only me. This information is safe, very safe, because it can only be accessed by me. Do you understand? Nod if you understand." I nodded my head. "Good," he said, "now we can begin with the taping of the message, 'Mr. President, I was aghast at your stance in Iran. Change directions and face east. The success of this operation depends on it.' "

Other memory compartments he created for other usage were seen to me, inside, as blocks of memory banks that housed information. They all had combination locks that Henry knew the codes to. Many had number and letter codes like, "16R, 17L, and 12 up straight." With the access code, the door to the memory bank in my head would swing open wide and I could go in and read the information Henry wanted. He told me the file to go into and I'd read through the alphabetical mind file system to get to the subject he wanted. Then, I read him the data or accessed messages directed to him from others. 

Later on when I was older, I had numerical codes for laundering money to and from places he told me to go.

UCLA
Henry spent time at UCLA Neuropsychiatric Institute in Westwood, California, in the area where they tested me and worked on my brain with all of their high tech equipment; bright lights, goggles, drugs, electroshock, cat scan tubes, etc. Henry walked with the big, heavy Caucasian doctor dressed in a white lab coat down the halls and I walked behind them until we got to the double swinging doors, and  then the doctor held one door open for Henry and I to enter. We all went inside and Henry told me to hop up on the table. The doctor examined my reflexes and looked into my eyes with different lights and gave me tastes and smells and all sorts of things that they said would powerfully effect my brain. Henry told me the doctor was my imaginary friend. He told me that was what I was to think, anyway. In an attempt to further scramble my brain the big doctor crossed his arms over his chest with his hands pointing in opposite directions and said, "Is it east or is it west? I don't know, I just get confused."

NASA
Another time doctors in white coats played perceptual mind games with me at a NASA installation. First they took me "through the course," they called it, and I was taken from chairs that performed different operations, like one that spun, then next to an isolation chamber. They put huge eye machines up to my face and had me close one eye and then the other in order to program each side of the brain separately. Some things were then reversed and programmed into another area of my brain through the opposite eye. They called this "cross-programming." For other functions, both sides of my brain had to be operating synchronistically. Information for mind file use was stored only on one side of my brain. Then, they allowed me to rest a moment before they injected me with some drug after which they put me through the course again (first by a woman, then by a man). They led me from each piece of equipment by the hand because at this point I was a total zombie. When I finished the third go-around of the course of equipment; they put me in a totally soundless isolation chamber. I don't know how long I was in isolation, but doctors in white lab coats released me and asked me questions. I was still spinning; I felt like I couldn't even prevent my head and eyes from continually spinning as I attempted to answer their questions. Focusing my eyes was very difficult. I can still feel and experience, to the point of abreaction, how awful and disorienting it felt. The doctors always acted very superior, but even as a child under mind control, somehow I was able to wonder, "who couldn't win with mind games, under these circumstances." I was only a child who had been put through torture and drugged, and now they wanted to ask me questions as if they were somehow better than I was. After one doctor finished questioning me, he would leave and another doctor would question and test me further.

At the time I was unable to consciously fathom the fact that that there was never any normal life for me. Only "acting" normal outwardly and for the public. Normal was what most people deemed acceptable behavior and I was told to emulate the normal people. So I copied behavior and was only allowed to be around certain people. All other relationships were not allowed. Both my mother and father watched me "like a hawk;" they said I wasn't allowed to go to social events that were not part of my programmed reality.

Henry Got Me into the 
Pentagon Lots of Times
In order to ready me for this assignment, Henry played "a bingo game" with me inside my head and directed me to the files in the Pentagon by a map he also created inside my head. In the Pentagon file room a code identified each filing cabinet in the room by giving it a letter code for the row and a number code for the number of the cabinet, starting with # 1 at the left. There were 12 rows of 12 cabinets in the area. The floor beneath the cabinets was smooth concrete or marble-like. The files inside the cabinets were labeled with letter and number codes. You had to look up the document you wanted from a listing, to get to the code number in order to look it up in the files. These were kept on the opposite side of the building for security purposes so a person would have to break through two security systems to get to the document they wanted. None were just filed alphabetically, but had a different system altogether for security. The building's windows had those small wavy, wiry lines in them. But the file room didn't have any windows. There were different types of security systems. Some systems set and unlocked with cards, others with keys, and still others were heat, light, voice or pressure activated. In some areas there were red laser beams that shone through the area that housed the filing cabinets. 

There were many times that he dressed me in different disguises; dressed me as a man, complete with beard and mustache, or a woman with padding to make me appear heavyset. These disguises were also successful in making me appear different ages. He often had hats that completed my disguise for a job. Henry disguised me and took me in one night. He only did the night entrance on one occasion, when there was an emergency that was worth the risk of abandoning me inside with instructions to self-destruct if apprehended. Henry did something to get an armed guard to agree to take me through the long, gray halls and lines of desks to the area where they had rows of file cabinets full of classified documents. Henry needed some information on a document, so he said something to the guard and the guard took me all through the building unlocking systems as we went. He took me up to the file room and just like in the game Henry and I had played, I went straight for the file cabinet, coded in the row and number on the map in my head. Like a rat in a maze, I knew my way exactly to the desired destination and I used a small flashlight that Henry had given me for this purpose. The file area had cameras that filmed the area, like in banks. Those had to somehow be shut down. Henry told me to pull the file, photographically memorize its entire contents within a prearranged mind file and minutes to completely "photograph" a multi-page document with my mind. There was no, enough time to read it, but I photographed it quickly, and then I returned to the guard. I think the agreement was that I could only have 2 minutes in an open drawer once I located the document I think Henry challenged guys that thought I couldn't do such things that fast or other things than seemed humanly impossible, so that he could get me into different highly secured buildings Henry also palmed guards and at other times got special clearances, or would work a deal out with a guard or the guard's boss. It was tricky because guards had to log their Henry would help provide them with an alibi for the time they were helping him.

During regular business hours, Henry would prostitute me to top Pentad, guards, whoever he needed to manipulate or access in order to gain the information he wanted There were certain Pentagon officials who were more cooperative than others. In later years he took me to meetings with men at the Pentagon in order to "debrief' me in front of them.

At the Pentagon there was also an audio-visual room, as they called it back in the late 60's and early 70's, where persons with top clearances could go to see a movie (later videos), of top secret projects and other classified information. Henry got me in to see lots of those over the years. There used to be a large movie screen, but later a large monitor for video showings 

Henry and The CIA
Henry sent man,: at the airport in a limo. Once in the office, Henry sat me in the large wooden chair that turned, r, order to give me the message while he spun me. Later, I was driven with him while he sorted through my mind files, listened to messages from people, and inputted information on new projects until we reached Washington, D.C. Then he sent me into buildings and I gave the information to whomever I was told to and in whatever way Henry said. Most of the time se, was just an avenue to deliver messages or maybe just used as a payoff to officials who were willing to overlook their security command in order to allow me access to certain classifies areas. Henry was well greased into the inner network of the FBI and CIA. He and his groin made sure they had control over these agencies. The director was always "one of theirs," but Henry had a lot of important information to give these agencies in order for things to groove, like well-oiled cogs.

They sent me to "give a message to the man on the second floor in the hall who has a rep handkerchief in his left pocket and bumps into your left shoulder and leans over to say, 'Sorry little girl.' Then you tell him this message."

Henry had a lot of business with the CIA and the FBI and it was all a big secret. He sent m, in even at eight and nine years old to deliver some of his most sensitive information to the most sensitive of connections. It all began with him spinning me in the wooden chair and inputting the message. Then he would have someone deliver me to the destination where I passed off information, often to older, very dignified, wealthy looking gentlemen. Sometimes I "ran into". cute little old man with white hair who bumped me on the shoulder and dropped something on the floor like a rose, handkerchief, or key ring and as we both bent to get it, I'd deliver information. Sometimes it was a long string of numbers and sometimes just a word like "Ajax, or "coma," or "barley him "or "make him into a ham on rye," or "tonight, 3 a.m. Federal Building job."

Chain Of Command
My chain of command was Henry first and then Bob. Henry Kissinger created Sue and Bob Hope created Sharon, and initially they were to only work with their respective sides of my personality structure. Messages could be sent through the inner personality system. Bob was never to access Sue and Henry wasn't to access Sharon, but Henry taught many personalities how to send messages back and forth through the system in order to get information about Sharon without accessing directly through her and thereby keeping it secret from Bob that he was breaking their agreement. Henry created "inner runners" that took messages from Sue to Sharon and then replied back without ever having to have Sharon present. It worked well, but Bob didn't access Sue. Since Bob didn't create my personality infrastructure, he lacked the sophistication to know how to access information without being caught and he knew Kissinger would find out because Henry programmed me to always tell the truth. I couldn't do otherwise and I would tell on Bob because Henry told me, "You watch him and tell me everything he does."

After lots of contact with Henry, he said, "Like in a good marriage, after awhile there is unconscious communication going all the time." He meant that it was like knowing each other so well that you know each other's thoughts, and that's how he trained me to be attuned to him.

In the early years lots of my instructions came by way of the telephone. My controllers would call out a specific personality's name and I would switch to her, listen for instructions and when they said, "Bye Sue," I'd switch back to my regular personality, with no conscious awareness of the event.

Bob took me to more places as a child to gain experience, but Henry just sat me in the chair a lot and read instructions or stuck that big pin in my thigh or hand, and gave me things to look at to "take a picture with my inner camera."

Who Would Suspect a Kid?
Henry had his driver take us to different parks in New York and they would let me out. I was eight or nine years old one time when Henry told me to, "walk toward the man in the blue suit," and when he dropped his handkerchief I was to give him a message. When I walked back to the car, Henry said, "You're some kind of homing pigeon." He called me that often when I was little and doing "errands" for him. He wanted me to have short hair so he could disguise me to look like a boy or a girl, whatever the job required. He had me be everything including "invisible"--that is, hidden inside of a box that was transported into a large warehouse. Of course I was instructed that once inside, to wait two hours, get out of the box and come and unlock the warehouse, and if necessary I was instructed in how to break the security code to get out. Like Henry said, "Who would suspect a kid?"

"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us..." --The Lord's Prayer 

next
Initiation into the Political Arena as a Sex Slave  

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