Worldwide Campaign to stop the Abuse and Torture of Mind Control/DEWs
"Organized Stalking is a form of terrorism used against an individual in a malicious attempt to reduce the quality of a person's life so they will: have a nervous break-down, become incarcerated, institutionalized, experience constant mental, emotional, or physical pain, become homeless, and/or commit suicide. This is done using well-orchestrated accusations, lies, rumors, bogus investigations, setups, framings, intimidation, overt or covert threats, vandalism, thefts, sabotage, torture, humiliation, emotional terror and general harassment. It is a "ganging up" by members of the community who follow an organizer and participate in a systematic "terrorizing" of an individual." -- Mark M. Rich
The first time I heard about “gang stalking” my eyes got wide and my jaw dropped. “That’s exactly what’s been happening to me,” I must have yelled—people started to stare. Over the past decade (or more) I have thought my life seemed particularly shitty—more than the law of averages would allow.
Things really started to roll downhill when I bought my current home on Olney, Maryland in August of 1993. I will never forget looking out onto my lawn the next day after moving in. There was trash and garbage everywhere. Since that day I have had some form of tissue or garbage on my lawn. Toilet tissue seems to magically appear, when I’m going in and out of my home. Then there are the cigarette butts that seem to line my parking space right next to where I get into my vehicle. I have never seen anyone doing these things. The person or people involved are experts in stealth.
There were “hang-up” calls—1AM, 2AM, 3AM early morning hours—sometimes three and four a night. I’m a physician and I need to keep my phone line open and clear of trash calls. Even after changing my phone number again and again—giving it out to no one except those at work who needed to know—the hang-up calls persisted for two years, then suddenly stopped.
Dead birds would be placed on my deck—sometimes one a week. Who had the time to kill all those crows and blackbirds? I’m African American—did this mean something? Once I had cut up raw chicken placed behind the bushes in my front yard. This was done exactly on the same date I had moved in after I lived there a year. When I found the chicken it was still cold—just out of the refrigerator. There was the picture of a gorilla taped on my front door—for my three year anniversary.
Out of the blue, the neighbor across the street parked his old Dodge Charger in my designated parking space and proceeded to disassemble it (wheels up on cinder blocks no less!). The Home Owners Association made the landlord evict that clown from the house he rented. Apparently he was giving several people “hell.” He never gave anyone any reason for his actions. I never found out what his name was.
Over the past nine years my house has been vandalize and invaded more times than I can count. I am so tired of coming home to find a screen torn out or mud slung at the back door/windows, plants torn up, dog crap on my sidewalk or porch. When I went on trips it was becoming routine for things to be out of place when I got back. The toilets would be used and un-flushed, TV channels that I don’t watch tuned to. It seems that thing were “borrowed” then bought back!
In 2003 I suffered two incidents of identity theft. The biggest one was when over $4000 was directly debited to my checking account. Perhaps I had a little luck here. It could have been worse if a cashier at Sear hadn’t called the police. They realized that the person impersonating me wasn’t who they said they were. My bank called me and all of the charges were reversed. In 2004 the same thing started up again—this time the purchases were made over the internet—no one was found or arrested. I joined LifeLock and to this day haven’t had another ID theft occurrence.
2004-2005 was the year of the noisy neighbor. Music was being blasted all times of the day. This went on for three months. Unfortunately for them, other neighbors complained. The stereo they used was right on the other side of the wall where my bed was. Looking back on this, I don’t think this was coincidence anymore.
In July of 2006 the most frightening home invasion occurred with what seemed to be a set up for arson. One of my Tiffany Tulip lamps was broken up—the glass tulip part torn off and strewn across the living room floor; the electrical plate pulled up and hung out over the side of the cup (that held the tulip); then placed next to my drapes that happened to be wet (accelerant?).
What was most disturbing about this event was the response of the Montgomery County Police. When I called they came quickly, but the officer seemed to be trying to make up reasons for what had occurred. First he said it was a “mistake.” When asked how he came to that conclusion he quickly changed and said it must have been an “accident.” This was incredible—the files that I had been organizing were thrown all over the floor in the midst of all this. What did he think—a small tornado had gone through my living room? Even though I called and complained and another team came out to hear my concern about arson, no investigation was done. I was never even given a case number.
Next to my home, my car has been vandalized over and over again. The alarm system has been set off so many times in the past year; I’ve gone through five batteries. Again I had no help from the police. One incident, when I saw the rubber ring that covered the ignition cylinder pulled out and obviously tampered with (not to mention the loose wires hanging from under the dashboard), I called the police, thinking that for sure they would investigate this. But no, the officer who came out actually pushed the O-ring covering the ignition back into place told me my car was dirty, and that I needed to wash it! Again, there is no report, no case number.
It’s time to move right? I have been trying to do this for some time now, but of course I’m underwater with the mortgage. I’ve had trouble with finding enough work—even though I’m in one of the most sought after specialties (emergency medicine). For some time now I have felt as if I’m on a black list—for reasons unknown to me.
One of the strangest things that had occurred (2008) is a group of children marching by my home—shouting obscenities! I didn’t recognize any of them, nor did the parents of any of the kids that I knew on my block. Who organized this? This happened exactly four times, then stopped. What followed were obscene letters with no return addresses—calling me ugly and fat (2009-2010). These letters were postmarked from Easton Maryland—I knew no one there, but my new job was on the eastern shore of Maryland, not far from there.
Next to the arson attempt, the constant letting of air from my tires was the most frightening (2010). At this time my job was a two hour drive from home, and I needed my car in top shape. I would come out from work late at night only to find my tire light on. When I checked my tires they would have 5 to 10 psi of air loss. I bought a portable air compressor to keep in my car. This was promptly stolen—out of a locked vehicle. When I went to the hospital security, I was informed that the camera pointed at the doctors parking lot was a fake! There were no tapes to look at to see who was doing this. How convenient… Stranger still, I was “let go” from this job—without any explanation.
The latest shock I’ve had occurred just last week. The home inspection for a place I’m about to buy was strange. There is no one living in this home anymore, the refrigerator was void of any food. Yet the kitchen sink drain was filled with burn eggshells (six of them). The garbage disposal (that was working fine when I first visited the place) was suddenly out of order. The inspector said that the electrical connections to the four year old disposal seemed to be “inadequate.” What does that mean?
What happened between the first time I saw this place up to the time the inspection occurred? Who got in there and why? A note was let on the door “sorry we missed you.” But the note didn’t say who they were—it wasn’t written on a work-order. Is my harassment starting again already? The adult community I’m moving to is gated and supposedly safe!
I’ll end my story here. I am sure I have left out other things. I’ve had collection agencies come after me for money I don’t owe, and now I am a victim of electronic harassment. My home has been sabotaged with a noxious vibration going through it. Were all those break-ins done just to set this up? It’s just that so much has occurred. As I’ve stated I had no idea until now, that I am a victim of gang stalking.