THE FINAL INSPECTION – the Soldier

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

‘Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you ?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?’

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
‘No, Lord, I guess I ain’t.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can’t always be a saint.

I’ve had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I’ve been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn’t mine to keep…
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I’ve wept unmanly tears.

I know I don’t deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.

If you’ve a place for me here, Lord,
It needn’t be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don’t, I’ll understand.

There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

‘Step forward now, you soldier,
You’ve borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven’s streets,
You’ve done your time in Hell.’

Author Unknown~

Obama Disrespects Veterans, Again

Taken at Veterans Day ceremonies at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

Looks as though the President forgot something…again!

You know what they say about a picture being worth a thousand words.

This is just one example.  “He doesn’t have a heart to cover!”

Alternate caption on today’s home page picture:

“Others salute, Obama covers his nuts; knowing where the citizens want to kick him.”

 

OBAMACARE ENDORSEMENTS: WHAT THE BRIBE WAS

OBAMACARE ENDORSEMENTS: WHAT THE BRIBE WAS
http://thehill.com/blogs/pundits-blog/healthcare/66717-obamacare-endorsements-what-the-bribe-was

By Dick Morris and Eileen McGann
Published on TheHill.com on November 6, 2009

As the suicidal Democratic congressmen proceed to rubber-stamp the Obama healthcare reform despite the drubbing their party took in the ’09 elections, the president trotted out the endorsements of the AMA and the AARP to stimulate support. But these — and the other endorsements — his package has received are all bought and paid for. Here are the deals:

• The American Medical Association (AMA) was facing a 21 percent cut in physicians’ reimbursements under the current law. Obama promised to kill the cut if they backed his bill. The cuts are the fruit of a law requiring annual 5-6 percent reductions in doctor reimbursements for treating Medicare patients. Bravely, each year Congress has rolled the cuts over, suspending them but not repealing them. So each year, the accumulated cuts threaten doctors. By now, they have risen to 21 percent. With this blackmail leverage, Obama compelled the AMA to support his bill … or else!
• The AARP got a financial windfall in return for its support of the healthcare bill. Over the past decade, the AARP has morphed from an advocacy group to an insurance company (through its subsidiary company). It is one of the main suppliers of Medi-gap insurance, a high-cost, privately purchased coverage that picks up where Medicare leaves off. But President Bush-43 passed the Medicare Advantage program, which offered a subsidized, lower-cost alternative to Medi-gap. Under Medicare Advantage, the elderly get all the extra coverage they need plus coordinated, well-managed care, usually by the same physician. So more than 10 million seniors went with Medicare Advantage, cutting into AARP Medi-gap revenues.

Presto! Obama solved their problem. He eliminates subsidies for Medicare Advantage. The elderly will have to pay more for coverage under Medigap, but the AARP — which supposedly represents them — will make more money. (If this galls you, join the American Seniors Association, the alternative group; contact // sbarton@americanseniors.org

This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

.)

• The drug industry backed ObamaCare and, in return, got a 10-year limit of $80 billion on cuts in prescription drug costs. (A drop in the bucket of their almost $3 trillion projected cost over the next decade.) They also got administration assurances that it will continue to bar lower-cost Canadian drugs from coming into the U.S. All it had to do was put its formidable advertising budget at the disposal of the administration.
• Insurance companies got access to 40 million potential new customers. But when the Senate Finance Committee lowered the fine that would be imposed on those who don’t buy insurance from $3,500 to $1,500, the insurance companies jumped ship and now oppose the bill, albeit for the worst of motives.

The only industry that refused to knuckle under was the medical device makers. They stood for principle and wouldn’t go along with Obama’s blackmail. So the Senate Finance Committee retaliated by imposing a tax on medical devices such as automated wheelchairs, pacemakers, arterial stents, prosthetic limbs, artificial knees and hips and other necessary accoutrements of healthcare.

So these endorsements are not freely given, but bought and paid for by an administration that is intent on passing its program at any cost.

PLEASE FORWARD THIS  TO FRIENDS AND FAMILY. THANK YOU!

View From The Cemetery

…and to think, this guy died almost a hundred and twenty years ago!!

He knew the truth!

Fort Hood Account from JAG officer onsite

Monday, November 9, 2009, 2:55 PM

Email from good friend of Frank Allen’s stationed at Fort Hood.

This is allegedly written by a witness to what went down.

Subject: What happened

Since I don’t know when I’ll sleep (it’s 4 am now) I’ll write what happened (the abbreviated version….. the long one is already part of the investigation with more to come).  I’ll not write about any part of the investigation that I’ve learned about since (as a witness I know more than I should since inevitably my JAG brothers and sisters are deeply involved in the investigation).  Don’t assume that most of the current media accounts are very accurate.  They’re not.  They’ll improve with time.  Only those of us who were there really know what went down.  But as they collate our statements they’ll get it right.

I did my SRP last week (Soldier Readiness Processing) but you’re supposed to come back a week later to have them look at the smallpox vaccination site (it’s this big itchy growth on your shoulder).  I am probably alive because I pulled a ———- and entered the wrong building first (the main SRP building).  The Medical SRP building is off to the side.  Realizing my mistake I left the main building and walked down the sidewalk to the medical SRP building.

As I’m walking up to it the gunshots start.  Slow and methodical.  But continuous.  Two ambulatory wounded came out.  Then two soldiers dragging a third who was covered in blood.  Hearing the shots but not seeing the shooter, along with a couple other soldiers I stood in the street and yelled at everyone who came running that it was clear but to “RUN!”  I kept motioning people fast.  About 6-10 minutes later (the shooting continuous), two cops ran up.  One male, one female.  We pointed in the direction of the shots.  They headed that way (the medical SRP building was about 50 meters away).  Then a lot more gunfire.  A couple minutes later a balding man in ACU’s came around the building carrying a pistol and holding it tactically.  He started shooting at us and we all dived back to the cars behind us.  I don’t think he hit the couple other guys who were there.  I did see the bullet holes later in the cars.  First I went behind a tire and then looked under the body of the car.  I’ve been trained how to respond to gunfire…but with my own weapon.  To have no weapon I don’t know how to explain what that felt like.  I hadn’t run away and stayed because I had thought about the consequences or anything like that.  I wasn’t thinking anything through.  Please understand, there was no intention.  I was just staying there because I didn’t think about running.  It never occurred to me that he might shoot me.  Until he started shooting in my direction and I realized I was unarmed.

Then the female cop comes around the corner.  He shoots her.  (According to the news accounts she got a round into him.  I believe it, I just didn’t see it. He didn’t go down.)  She goes down.  He starts reloading.  He’s fiddling with his mags.  Weirdly he hasn’t dropped the one that was in his weapon.  He’s holding the fresh one and the old one (you do that on the range when time is not of the essence but in combat you would just let the old mag go).  I see the male cop around the left corner of the building.  (I’m about 15-20 meters from the shooter.)  I yell at the cop, “He’s reloading, he’s reloading.  Shoot him! Shoot him!)  You have to understand, everything was quiet at this point.  The cop appears to hear me and comes around the corner and shoots the shooter.

He goes down.  The cop kicks his weapon further away.  I sprint up to the downed female cop.  Another captain (I think he was with me behind the cars) comes up as well.  She’s bleeding profusely out of her thigh.  We take our belts off and tourniquet her just like we’ve been trained (I hope we did it right…we didn’t have any CLS (combat lifesaver) bags with their awesome tourniquets on us, so we worked with what we had).

Meanwhile, in the most bizarre moment of the day, a photographer was standing over us taking pictures.  I suppose I’ll be seeing those tomorrow.  Then a soldier came up and identified himself as a medic.  I then realized her weapon was lying there unsecured (and on “fire”).  I stood over it and when I saw a cop yelled for him to come over and secure her weapon (I would have done so but I was worried someone would mistake me for a bad guy).  I then went over to the shooter.  He was unconscious.  A Lt Colonel was there and had secured his primary weapon for the time being.  He also had a revolver.

I couldn’t believe he was one of ours.  I didn’t want to believe it.  Then I saw his name and rank and realized this wasn’t just some specialist with mental issues.  At this point there was a guy there from CID and I asked him if he knew he was the shooter and had him secured.  He said he did.  I then went over the slaughter house…the medical SRP building.  No human should ever have to see what that looked like, and I won’t tell you.  Just believe me.  Please, there was nothing to be done there.  Someone then said there was someone critically wounded around the corner.  I ran around (while seeing this floor to ceiling window that someone had jumped through movie style) and saw a large African-American soldier lying on his back with two or three soldiers attending.  I ran up and identified two entrance wounds on the right side of his stomach, one exit wound on the left side and one head wound.  He was not bleeding externally from the stomach wounds (though almost certainly internally) but was bleeding from the head wound.

A soldier was using a shirt to try and stop the head bleeding.  He was conscious so I began talking to him to keep him so.  He was 42, from North Carolina, he was named something Jr., his son was named something III and he had a daughter as well.  His children lived with him.  He was divorced.  I told him the blubber on his stomach saved his life.  He smiled.  A young soldier in civvies showed up and identified himself as a combat medic. We debated whether to put him on the back of a pickup truck.  A doctor (well, an audiologist) showed up and said you can’t move him, he has a head wound.  We finally sat tight.  I went back to the slaughterhouse.  They weren’t letting anyone in there not even medics.

Finally, after about 45 minutes had elapsed some cops showed up in tactical vests.  Someone said the TBI building was unsecured.  They headed into there.  All of a sudden a couple more shots were fired.  People shouted there was a second shooter.  A half hour later the SWAT showed up.  There was no second shooter, that had been an impetuous cop apparently.  But that confused things for a while.  Meanwhile, I went back to the shooter.  The female cop had been taken away, and a medic was pumping plasma into the shooter.  I’m not proud of this but I went up to her and said “this is the shooter, is there anyone else who needs attention…do them first”.  She indicated everyone else living was attended to.  I still hadn’t seen any EMTs or ambulances.   I had so much blood on me that people kept asking me if I was ok.  But that was all other people’s blood.  Eventually, (an hour and a half to two hours after the shootings) they started landing choppers.  They took out the big African American guy and the shooter.  I guess the ambulatory wounded were all at the SRP building.  Everyone else in my area was dead.

I suppose the emergency responders were told there were multiple shooters.  I heard that was the delay with the choppers (they were all civilian helicopters).  They needed a secure LZ, but other than the initial cops who did everything right, I didn’t’ see a lot of them for a while.  I did see many a soldier rush out to help their fellows/sisters.  There was one female soldier, I don’t know her name or rank but I would recognize her anywhere who was everywhere helping people.  A couple people, mainly civilians, were hysterical, but only a couple.  One civilian freaked out when I tried to comfort her when she saw my uniform.  I guess she had seen the shooter up close.  A lot of soldiers were rushing out to help even when we thought there was another gunman out there.  This Army is not broken no matter what the pundits say. Not the Army I saw.

And then they kept me for a long time to come.  Oh, and perhaps the most surreal thing, at 1500 (the end of the workday on Thursdays) when the bugle sounded we all came to attention and saluted the flag.  In the middle of it all.

This is what I saw.  It can’t have been real.  But this is my small corner of what happened.

1/2 boy, 1/2 man – The American Soldier

1/2 boy – 1/2 man

If you read this, you WILL forward it on.

The average age of the military man is 19 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather wax his own car than wash his father’s, but he has never collected unemployment either.

He’s a recent High School graduate; he was probably an average student, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a ten year old jalopy, and has a steady girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away. He listens to rock and roll or hip-hop or rap or jazz or swing and a 155mm howitzer.

He is 10 or 15 pounds lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting from before dawn to well after dusk. He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.

He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional.

He can march until he is told to stop, or stop until he is told to march.

He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity. He is self-sufficient.

He has two sets of fatigues: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry.

He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts.

If you’re thirsty, he’ll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He’ll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.

He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands.

He can save your life – or take it, because that is his job.

He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay, and still find ironic humor in it all.

He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime.

He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed…

He feels every note of the National Anthem vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to ’square-away’ those around him who haven’t bothered to stand, remove their hat, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful.

Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American Fighting Man that has kept this country free for over 200 years.

He has asked nothing in return, except our friendship and understanding.

Remember him, always, for he has earned our respect and admiration with his blood.

And now we even have women over there in danger, doing their part in this tradition of going to War when our nation calls us to do so.

As you go to bed tonight, remember this shot…

A short lull, a little shade and a picture of loved ones in their helmets.

Prayer wheel for our military… please don’t break it. Please send this on after a short prayer.

Prayer Wheel

‘Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen.’

When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer for our ground troops in Afghanistan, sailors on ships, and airmen in the air, and for those in Iraq, Afghanistan and all foreign countries.

There is nothing attached… This can be very powerful…

Of all the gifts you could give a US Soldier, Sailor, Marine, or Airman, prayer is the very best one.

I can’t break this one, sorry. Pass it on to everyone and pray.

It is the Soldier – by Father Dennis O’Brien

It is the soldier, not the President, who gives us democracy,

It is the soldier, not the Congress, who takes care of us.

It is the soldier, not the Reporter, who has given us Freedom of Press.

It is the soldier, not the Poet, who has given us Freedom of Speech.

It is the soldier, not the campus Organizer, who has given us the Freedom to Demonstrate.

It is the soldier, who salutes the flag; who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, that allows the protester to burn the flag.

Father Dennis O’Brien,

US Marine Corp. Chaplain

WHO’S YOUR DADDY – an inspirational story

A seminary professor was vacationing with his wife in Gatlinburg, TN.. One morning, they were eating breakfast at a little restaurant, hoping to enjoy a quiet, family meal. While they were waiting for their food, they noticed a distinguished looking, white-haired man moving from table to table, visiting with the guests.

The professor leaned over and whispered to his wife, ‘I hope he doesn’t come over here.’ But sure enough, the man did come over to their table.

‘Where are you folks from?’ he asked in a friendly voice.

‘Oklahoma,’ they answered.

‘Great to have you here in Tennessee,’ the stranger said. ‘What do you do for a living?’

‘I teach at a seminary,’ he replied.

‘Oh, so you teach preachers how to preach, do you? Well, I’ve got a really great story for you.’

And with that, the gentleman pulled up a chair and sat down at the table with the couple.

The professor groaned and thought to himself, ‘Great… Just what I need …another preacher story!’

The man started, ‘See that mountain over there? (pointing out the restaurant window). Not far from the base of that mountain, there was a boy born to an unwed mother. He had a hard time growing up, because every place he went, he was always asked the same question, ‘Hey boy, who’s your daddy?’ Whether he was at school, in the grocery store or drug store, people would ask the same question, ‘Who’s your daddy?’

He would hide at recess and lunchtime from other students. He would avoid going into stores because that question hurt him so bad. ‘When he was about 12 years old, a new preacher came to his church. He would always go in late and slip out early to avoid hearing the question, ‘Who’s your daddy?’

But one day, the new preacher said the benediction so fast that he got caught and had to walk out with the crowd.

Just about the time he got to the back door, the new preacher, not knowing anything about him, put his hand on his shoulder and asked him, ‘Son, who’s your daddy?’

The whole church got deathly quiet. He could feel every eye in the church looking at him. Now everyone would finally know the answer to the question, ‘ Who’s your daddy?’

‘This new preacher, though, sensed the situation around him and using discernment that only the Holy Spirit could give, said the following to that scared little boy… ‘Wait a minute! I know who you are! I see the family resemblance now, you are a child of God.’

With that he patted the boy on his shoulder and said, ‘Boy, you’ve got a great inheritance. Go and claim it.’

With that, the boy smiled for the first time in a long time and walked out the door a changed person.

He was never the same again. Whenever anybody asked him, ‘Who’s your Daddy?’ he’d just tell them, ‘I’m a Child of God.”

The distinguished gentleman got up from the table and said, ‘Isn’t that a great story?’

The professor responded that it really was a great story!

As the man turned to leave, he said, ‘You know, if that new preacher hadn’t told me that I was one of God’s children, I probably never would have amounted to anything!’ And he walked away.

The seminary professor and his wife were stunned. He called the waitress over and asked her, ‘Do you know who that man was — the one who just left that was sitting at our table?’

The waitress grinned and said, ‘Of course. Everybody here knows him. That’s Ben Hooper, he’s governor of Tennessee!’

Someone in your life today needs a reminder that they’re one of God’s children!

‘The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of God stands forever.’ ~~Isaiah

YOU’RE ONE OF GOD’S CHILDREN!!! HAVE A GREAT DAY!

Keep this going… You have no idea which one of your e-mail buddies could use a little hope today.

Her Name was Rose – an inspirational story

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder.

I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.

She said, ‘Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?’

I laughed and enthusiastically responded; ‘Of course you may!’ and she gave me a giant squeeze.

‘Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?’ I asked.

She jokingly replied, ‘I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids…’

‘No seriously,’ I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

‘I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one!’ she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.

We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop.  I was always mesmerized listening to this ‘time machine’ as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went.  She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us.  She was introduced and stepped up to the podium.  As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor.  Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, ‘I’m sorry I’m so jittery.  I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I’ll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.’

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, ‘ We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.

There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy and achieving success.  You have to laugh and find humor every day.  You’ve got to have a dream.  When you lose your dreams, you die.

We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it!

There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.

If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old.  If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.

Anybody can grow older.  That doesn’t take any talent or ability.  The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets.

The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do.  The only people who fear death are those with regrets.’

She concluded her speech by courageously singing ‘The Rose.’

She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.  At the year’s end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago.

One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.

Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s never too late to be all you can possibly be.

When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they’ll really enjoy it!

These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.

REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY.  GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL.

We make a Living by what we get. We make a Life by what we give.

God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.

Pass this message on.  If you choose not, then you refuse to bless someone else.

‘Good friends are like stars… You don’t always see them, but you know they are always there.’

What if there was no justice in Arizona?

What if there was no justice in Arizona?

By John Donnelly

What would you do if you were a successful dentist and had been falsely arrested and held for several months under charges that were made up by your scheming wife (long-term drug addict and alcoholic) who was trying to get a divorce, obtain a strategic position for custody of your two children, gain control of all your money and property by lying to police in order to have you kept in jail so she could loot your bank accounts (corporate and joint accounts), steal drugs (DEA controlled narcotics), patient dental records, personal firearms collection (99 guns, ammo & accessories)?

What if your wife and her lawyer, accompanied by the lawyer’s paralegal, the paralegal’s husband (a Phoenix firefighter) 2 Sheriff’s detectives and another un-named person came into your house at midnight while you were in the hospital, opened your gun safes and removed your ninety-nine (99) guns and accessories, supposedly under a court order, for placement at a gun shop for consignment? What if there has NEVER been any court order produced to show the need to remove your firearms? What if the detectives were supposedly there for a civil standby, but have no official documents requesting their presence? What if they never made an accurate accounting (make, model and serial number) of the items removed? (Chain of custody) What if between the house and the gun shop, thirty-three (33) of the firearms disappeared? What if the lawyer denied the existence of these firearms for several months, and in several certified letters requesting information, the truth finally came out that he and the detectives had bought some of these guns and ammo? (Grand Theft) What if the gun shop where the other guns were taken refused to give you a list of firearms that they received and subsequently sold? (ATF form 4473 – Federal requirement for firearms transfer) What if, under a court-ordered subpoena, they still refused to provide this information? (Contempt of court) What if the gun shop owners sent a letter to the judge on your divorce trial telling him that they sold a large number of your guns for about $3,000? (Way under market value)

What if your wife had been seeing at least 18 different doctors (doctor shopping) in order to get prescriptions for narcotics? What if she had been taking these drugs behind your back for several years? What if she was writing prescriptions in other peoples’ names, and calling them in to pharmacies for herself (using your DEA license) and getting more drugs in that manner? What if, in addition to the illegal narcotics that she was taking, she also was taking prescription drugs for depression and schizophrenia? What if you found out that your wife had been stealing drugs from your office as early as one year after you had been married? What if she met an attorney at the gun range whom she kept in contact with for several years, and used this attorney later when your guns were stolen? What if she obtained a confidential list of judges (and their home addresses) from this attorney, and this list was found in your vehicle when you were arrested? What if it is not illegal or unlawful to have a copy of this list?

What would you do if the attorney that represented your wife, had you allegedly sign papers (with her attorney acting as the Notary) while you are in the hospital due to a head injury and under heavy medication (vulnerable adult), giving her access to your corporate bank account, and then she promptly cleaned out the account of about $22,000? (NOTARY FRAUD by the Attorney, and conflict of interest, assisting another in commission of a Felony)

What if she (the wife) stole vehicles and property that belonged to the corporate trust and concealed their whereabouts? What if she stole your computers, over 2,000 patient records [HIPAA violation (Federal) Identity theft] gold, DEA controlled narcotics (drugs), DEA controlled substance logs, and prescription pads from your office.

What if your wife filed a restraining order against you in order to keep you away from your house in order to conceal the fact that she had cleaned out the house, safes and office, of all your money, property ($663,000) and possessions? What if she sold some of that property (that was not hers) in order to buy drugs, go on uncontrolled spending sprees, and take trips to Mexico and California?

What if the local police department assisted her in removing your property from your house, locked safes and office, and when you tried to report the theft of property, the police failed and refused to respond or act on the report or any other reports that you attempted to make and treated you in a hostile manner?

What if the wife was found passed out in the gravel in front of Walgreens, with an open bottle of rum? (PUBLIC DRUNKENESS) What if her employer drove her home from work, (the school where she teaches) because she was drunk on the job? What if she was drunk and running through her apartment complex late at night, banging on doors and screaming that she was sexually assaulted, and when the police came, denied it? What if the wife was charged with 3 DUI’s within 2 years, one involving an accident where she INJURED a young man, who was required to be in the hospital for several weeks for treatment and recovery, destroying his semester at ASU? What if she didn’t get any REAL punishment or jail time for these 3 DUI’s, and what she did get, amounted to a slap on the wrist?

What if during one of the DUI’s she was involved in an accident, WHILE your child was in the vehicle? (FELONY CHILD ENDANGERMENT) What if the detectives and county prosecutor were covering up all these crimes by the wife (a known drug addict and alcoholic), because she was the only witness that they had against you? What if the wife had tried to commit suicide on at least 2 occasions, while your children were in her care (drugs and/or alcohol) and CPS refused to remove your children from her home? What if her own daughter expressed to police deep concern for her mother’s behavior? What if the police came and made a report, called CPS and they did NOTHING about removing the children from this home? What if you weren’t allowed to see, or have any contact with, your own children for over 3 years?

What if her attorney, and the detectives who were present when her lawyer cleaned out your gun safes, (99 guns, ammo, and accessories) purchased some of these guns for much less than fair market value, and lied about it to you and the State Bar, for several months before being caught in a lie? What if this attorney “gave” one of the guns to his brother out of state? (Federal firearms violation – interstate transportation of a stolen firearm)

What if the Arizona State Bar ADMITTED that this attorney was guilty of lying and theft, but failed to file sanctions against him (censure) or recommend disbarment for his crimes?

What if the attorney that you hired to defend you, pretended to act in your interests and failed to provide a reasonable defense, (ineffective counsel) failed to file objections and motions needed in a timely manner, and all the while charging you exorbitant amounts and when you ask for an itemized billing, made excuse after excuse and never provided the requested information? What if this attorney also had possession of 12 of your firearms, (that were given to him by the wife’s attorney) and sold those firearms for his personal gain? (Grand Theft) What if this attorney knew of the firearms theft by the wife’s attorney and (by state law) FAILED to report him to the state bar for punishment?

What if the Sheriff made inflammatory public statements (SLANDER) to the media about you regarding the false charges? What if the Sheriff also put you in jail among the general population, endangering your life?

What would you do, if, while you are being held in jail illegally, the detectives who were working on your case, lied to the grand jury (PERJURY) about evidence that they had in their possession, that POSITIVELY cleared you of the charges that you were being held for?  What if they held you in jail for several more weeks, AFTER they KNEW of the evidence EXCLUDING you from the alleged crime? What if they made you pay a ridiculously high bond, ($360,000.00) that didn’t fit the crime, in order for you to get out of jail?

What if the county prosecutor called herself the “ANGEL OF DEATH” (and was so proud of this name she used it for her email name) and had previously worked with these lying detectives and was now trying to put you away for several felony counts? (CONSPIRACY) What if her motives were to keep you quiet, so the REAL TRUTH about the trumped-up charges, and her involvement with the lying, thieving detectives were never known?

What if the judges assigned to your case kept making delay after delay (usually 30-60 days) WITHOUT making any rulings, and then recusing themselves when things started getting hot, and judge after judge refused to hear the case, because it was a political hot potato? What if the judge kept making delays that pushed your trial date PAST the legally allowed time (over 3 years since your initial arrest) to deny your constitutional right to a speedy trial? What if the judge failed to follow both Arizona Constitution and the U.S. Constitution laws guaranteeing your rights? What if the judge got sick and never recused himself?  The Supreme Court acted to intervene, without obtaining his recusal! (More delays)

What if they finally got a judge from an adjoining county, (who continued making 60-day delays) that held a hearing in the next county, that you were unable to attend, (and judge refused to allow you to appear telephonically) because it would violate your bond release agreement?

What if the wife’s lawyers pushed this judge to revoke your bond to restrict your movements and hamper your efforts to get the truth, work on your defense and in order for your wife to try and claim your house to get money? What if you were put back in jail because of this supposed bond revocation?

What if a good friend worked all night to file a Writ of Habeas Corpus with the Supreme Court and they refused to order your release? What if the judge failed to follow both Arizona Constitution and the U.S. Constitution laws guaranteeing your rights? What if all the law enforcement officers, attorneys, prosecutors, and judges involved in your case were totally ignored the rule of law, violating both STATE and FEDERAL statutes and DENYING YOUR CIVIL and HUMAN RIGHTS?

What if, because of these problems, you were not able to practice in your profession, and have lost out on over $300,000.00 in income? What if your mother (retired) had been paying your bills and helping in your legal defense for the past three years, expending all of her retirement savings?

What if your attorney at your divorce trial was inexperienced and didn’t get any help in defending you after being asked to? (Ineffective counsel) What if he failed to file motions in a timely manner or even to object to the nonsense that the wife’s attorneys were pulling and just kept billing you $300 an hour for doing nothing? What if the police pulled your mother over on the freeway, removed her from the car at gunpoint, and took away the car she was driving, even though she had a legal right to possess the car? What if your attorney didn’t even check on the status of the car for several days, to try and recover it for your mother, until after the wife had picked up the car from impound?

What if, during your criminal trial, you were taken from your cell at about 5:30 AM to be transported to the courthouse, without having anything to eat? What if you were put in a holding room until court started at 9:00 AM, sat in court until they recessed for lunch, were put back in the holding room (without getting any lunch) until court resumed at about 1:30 PM, and were taken back to your cell after court adjourned at 5:00 PM and didn’t get any dinner? What if this went on for 4 days a week for the entire time of your 3-week trial?

What if, during your trial, the prosecutor submitted circumstantial evidence that was never positively linked to you by DNA or fingerprints? What if the judge denied every motion from your defense attorneys to present evidence that disproved the prosecutions allegations? What if the judge had been talking to other judges and had a preconceived notion of your guilt, even before the trial commenced?

What if this judge denied your defense, in violation of your Constitutional rights guaranteed by the Arizona and U.S. Constitutions? What if, the judge prohibited the defense attorneys from giving the sentencing guidelines to the jury. What if the jury, after listening to the lies fabricated by your wife and the prosecutors, failed to understand the true legal definitions of the charges against you because of the interpretation given to them by the prosecutor, and found you guilty on all charges?

What if the judge sentenced you to 17-year (123.5 years total) consecutive terms on each charge? What if the sentence was excessive for a non-violent charge and this was your first offense? What if your defense attorneys ask the court to grant them an executive clemency hearing and were flat out denied? What if they explained to the judge that his sentence was extremely excessive for a non-violent charge, and that if you had committed something like a rape or murder, you would have received less time, and would be eligible for parole and the judge denied them again?

What if, 2 days after your sentencing, while you were in county jail, supposedly in protective custody, you were put in a cell with a convicted murderer, (ex-Mexican Mafia) who knew several of the judges, attorneys, etc. involved in your case? What if he came up behind you at 4:00 AM and severely beat you and knocked your 8 front teeth loose? What if, when you were taken to county hospital for treatment, and when you were taken back to jail, you were denied ANY pain medication? What if you were taken a few days later to a state facility for classification, while you were supposed to be in protective custody, where 2 inmates beat you again while the detention officers turned their heads? What if you heard that there was a contract out on you, because the (guilty) people involved in your case didn’t want you to talk about the case or ever see the light of day again?

What if, a month after your trial, a copy of the sheriff’s detective’s report turned up, showing that they were at your house the night that your guns were stolen?  [and the report was concealed from evidence]

What would you do if all these things were TRUE? And you were not guilty of anything.

Would you finally believe there is no justice in Arizona?

IF you still have doubts, ask me – I have PROOF!

www.justicefordrkennedy.info