LAST UPDATED 12-18-2010

BuiltWithNOF
YEAR 2000

CHAPTER TEN

January  2000                                       

Kathy said that she was going to Rolla for New Years Eve.  I decided not to go anywhere. At about two or three o clock in the morning Cris Nelson called me and kept trying to get me to go over to his house.  He kept saying that he would make it well worth my while so finally after he had called me about three times, I told him that I would head on over for awhile.  When I arrived at Cris's house on 1402 Moffett Street, I walked up on his front porch and noticed that no one was following me. I knocked on the door. I could hear people talking inside but no one answered. I took out the 22 pistol that I had brought along and put it in my right hand. I knocked again. I could here a lot of movement inside. I started to knock again when a guy opened the door. I stepped in and he closed the door behind me. I glanced around the room and there were three guys, which I had never seen before standing one on each side of the room and one across the room in front of me.  They were all wearing gloves.  The one guy in front of me said,  “Wrong house.”  I raised up the pistol and said, “It can be for at least one of us.” He stepped back and I walked over and sat on the couch.  Cris was nowhere around.  After a couple of minutes the guy said,  “I was only kidding.” Then he handed me a pipe loaded with meth after he had taken a puff off of it. I took a couple of puffs of it and passed it on to another guy. 

About five minutes later Cris came in. He looked surprised to see me. He said, “What's up?”  I said, “you tell me, you were the one that called me. Where have you been?”  Then Cris said, “Oh, I was out in the garage and did not know that you were here. I said, “Well, where is all the good stuff you said you have.” He said, “I was hoping that you would have some. I am just getting ready to mix up a batch and it's going to take a while.” I said, “You mean you woke me up and had me come out and over here for two puffs on a pipe?  You dog!  I'm going back home!”  I got up and headed out the door.

Later that day I called Cris up and started getting on to him about the night before.  Calling me over and having those guys waiting for me. He said that he was sorry. He did not have anything to do with it.  He was out in the garage and had no idea they were going to do anything like that. He said anyway one of them was just a 19 year old kid.  I said yea just a 19 year old kid that just got bonded out waiting to be tried for murder.  He told me he was waiting to go to trial on the murder at the Livingston trailer in OK a couple months ago.  Cris said he is going to get out of it he was there.

I went over to Debbie Jones' house. She had some of her friends over: Cindy Tomas who has a dead husband; Cristy Swegart who has three dead husbands, and Trish, who has an ex-husband that had his business blown up. All of them worked at Freeman Hospital. One of them said I should go watch the movie Enemy of the State. They were laughing about the traffic outside. I got up to go to the bathroom. As I went into the next room, I heard Cindy ask Debbie, "Has Glen figured out what's going on, yet?" Debbie answered, "I think he just about has." I came back and acted as if I hadn't heard it. I asked if anyone wanted to ride to Wal-Mart with me. Cindy volunteered. I drove up and down several of me side streets to try and ditch some of the traffic that was following us. I had noticed that when I went to Debbie's or had someone with me, the traffic seemed to cut down by a third to about half. Cindy made some comments about the cars following me along the way.

When we got back, I asked if they wanted to go up to Kansas City and go to the riverboats to gamble. Debbie, Cindy and Trish volunteered. We went out on Debbie's front porch watching the cars driving by. I'd seen them enough by now that I began to notice who was driving some of them and where they lived. A lot of them lived around in Debbie's neighborhood, which didn't surprise me a whole hell of a lot. Cause I pointed out to them that from her front porch within a six-block circle I could count where eleven meth labs were located. I had bought from over seven of them. Cindy or Debbie knew who most of them were and the fact that they were operating labs there. There's a grade school within three blocks of Debbie's house. They had busted one of the labs recently on the 40 hundred block of Virginia, practically right in the school yard. In fact, the school bordered the property where the lab was busted. I guess they must have thought the police would not suspect them that close to a school. Or who knows, maybe some of the police were in on it. Which I would soon discover, especially when I noticed one coming out of Cliff Martin's house on 43rd and Joplin Street; one of my favorite connections. He had his act together, some of the best around. Next to the shop on the 4200 block of Main, Shelly's favorite spots) Debbie had four or five friends over and we talked about going to the riverboat in Kansas City. While they were deciding back and forth, I asked if anybody wanted to ride to Wal-Mart with me. Cindy Mahaffey volunteered. We were followed from the time we left Debbie's house and back to Debbie's house. I drove around several blocks, up and down different streets and they still followed. Some of them even got out of their cars and followed us into Wal-Mart. After we went into Debbie's house, the cars continued driving around and around the block. Even though Debbie's street is only two blocks long with a T at either end, they kept driving around and around the block

Inside Debbie's house, I was really surprised that they were all noticing it but weren't acting scared half to death. Then I got to thinking about the people around. Cristy Swagart had three dead husbands, Cindy McHaffey had a dead husband, Trish had an ex-husband that had someone blow up his business on West 9th Street. Debbie's old boss Shelley bragged about her missing boyfriends. Debbie's friend Shelly's sister Lanna she had a dead husband and a dead boyfriend, almost every boyfriend Debbie Jones has had is dead, and her sister's first husband is dead. Almost all of these women either worked for Freeman Hospital or had close friends that did. Even Debbie's friend Donaldson from Neosho had a dead husband. And here her and Kathy my wife had been best friends for the last year. I asked Debbie if she had any friends that did not have a dead husband and she pointed out Trish. I said, "Yeah, but didn't his whole business mysteriously blow up?" I then started wondering about the jokes she had been telling for the last year. Each time she would get her child support check, (Well, looks like Jeff decided that he wants to live for another month.) I thought to myself, I need to stay on this girl's good side and watch her close."

Debbie, Cindy and Trish decided to ride up to Kansas City to the riverboat with me. I got one of them to volunteer to drive up there while I laid in the back. I noticed we were being followed, so I loaded up a couple of guns. After we got into Kansas City's traffic, I could not tell for sure if we were still being followed because of all the city traffic around us. We pulled up and parked and went on inside the casino. I did not notice anyone following us inside the casino. I was just too tired and worn out to get into the gambling, so I told them that I was going to have to go out and lay down in the van and try to get some sleep.

Cindy came out and talked to me, then Trish, then Debbie.  While talking to Debbie, I noticed the row of traffic behind me. There was a guy sitting in a pick up. On his dash was a book folded halfway out, standing up. In between the pages, it looked like he was holding a gun. About two cars over, there was a man wearing coveralls standing as if he was getting ready to run. This did not fit a casino parking lot at all. Work coveralls in a casino parking lot at three A.M. I was thinking he was going to take off running as the other guy shot the gun. Just as he was taking off, I rolled out of the van with a camera and started snapping pictures when the guy in the coveralls took off running, but the guy holding the pistol between the book pages did not shoot his gun. I jumped back into the van and pulled around to try and get his tag number. Debbie was insisting that I not drive over there. As I started down between the rows of cars in the parking lot, the pickup quickly backed out and took off. I was not able to get the license number.  Trish or Cindy one drove us back to Joplin.

The next day, I got to thinking it was dangerous being around Debbie. But it was a whole lot more dangerous being alone. It seemed like the traffic stalking me cut in half when I was around Debbie, compared to when I was alone. I started talking about Chris Alexander, who had recently moved to Hutchinson, Kansas and how he was saying that people were following him all over just before he left town. He was not imagining it, like people had thought. I said that I was going to drive to Hutchinson and see how he was doing. Debbie quickly volunteered to ride with me. She had recently quit her job, so she did not have any commitments. At about three A.M. we stopped on the way and got a room. We cuddled a little bit but nothing happened, I guess because we were so tired.

When we woke up it already was almost checkout time. We drove on to Hutchinson, Kansas. It did not take long to find Chris and where he was staying. I had not noticed anyone following me since we checked into the motel the night before. Chris was real surprised to see us. I told him a little about what was going on. He got a scared look on his face and said, "The Mafia! You thought I was making it up when I said they were stalking me." He said that he would call K.C. cause he ran around with them. He said he had went over to a guy's house that he just referred to as "Dad" lived east of Duniwig and he was in with them pretty deep. We finally got K.C. on the phone. He was at his Grandma's house, Vivian Cole. K.C. said he had not heard anything, then told me to look him up as soon as I got back in Joplin. Chris wanted us to stay for a while, but we needed to get back because Debbie only had a baby sitter for a couple of days. On the way back to Joplin, we stopped and got another room. It was there that I had sex with Debbie for the first time. We both realized that things would not ever be the same afterwards.

After we got back, I called K.C. up. He said that he had some good crank and to give him about thirty minutes before I came over. When I got over to KC's, there were three guys including KC looking under the hood of a car. As I was walking towards them, another car pulled up. I walked on over to the car that they appeared to be working on. The first thing that I noticed was that there were three or four guns around the car and no tools anywhere not even a pair of pliers. I was glad I had a gun on me, but I did not know if it was going to do me any good. They acted concerned with the car that had pulled up. KC asked me if I could come back in about thirty minutes. I said, "No problem." As I drove off, I thought to myself that I had been extremely lucky that the other car had pulled up. I decided to pass on returning in thirty minutes and drove back to Debbie's house.

I had not been in the door five minutes when Chris Alexander called. He told me not to go to KC's. I told him that I had just gotten back and told him what had happened. He told me not to go back there, to go to Doug's house. He volunteered to come to Joplin to try and help me, but I talked him out of it. Later that day, Berry Dobbs called. He said that he had talked to Kathy and she thought that I might be over there. He said that Kathy had seen the money and went for it. She did not know that they just wanted to have sex with her.

That afternoon, after Kathy went to work, I went over to the house on Pennsylvania to check the mail. Within five minutes, there were half a dozen cars swarming around the block and down the alley. I looked out the window and there were four or five guys walking around in my neighborhood. Anytime I drove near the house on Pennsylvania, traffic would swarm around me. I was carrying a gun with me everywhere I went. I figured that they had one shot and if they took it I would shoot back.

I drove to Oklahoma to check on my mom. I was followed all the way down there and on the way back. Right after I got off the turnpike going into Tulsa, I noticed a Tulsa cop getting behind me. I pulled into a station for gas. The cop pulled within fifty feet of me and was sitting in his car. I got out and started the gas going into the van and quickly went into the  station. I had loaded guns on me and in the van. I also had meth in the van in my suitcase. I had a. shot before I got on the road and I figured that they knew all of this and were using the cop to set me up. I went out the back door of the truck stop and ran across the parking lot.

I had noticed a motel nearby. I went into the office of the motel. There were two women in there. I told them that there was a guy lying out in the parking lot at the truck stop, I think he is having a heart attack and needs some help. They said they would call 911 and picked up the phone. I went out to the motel and saw a propane trucking company on the other side of the motel. There was a small stream between it and me. It was muddy water but no wider than about five feet. I figured it was shallow. I thought I would go over there and wait. I was more worried about being shot by the cop than being arrested. Cause I knew he was obviously there for me. I stepped into the water and went in almost to my waist. I went on across and through the fence on the other side. Once on the lot I hid between a couple of trucks and waited. I was thinking I knew better than to have done that meth but it had been a couple of weeks since I had done any and evidently they were waiting for me to do some to give them their opportunity. I was wishing I could have seen the look on that cop's face when the fire trucks and ambulance pulled in on the lot. Once I saw them on the lot and looking for a body to work on I knew that I now had witnesses so I was not worried about the cop anymore. I went back through the fence, across the stream, and started across the lot towards the station where my van was. One of the firemen looked up and noticed me. I stopped as I approached his truck and said hi to him. I heard them saying it must have been a false alarm. They did not know how wrong they were. I felt them showing up probably saved my life. I took the gas nozzle out of my van and shut it off, then went in and paid for the gas. The cop drove off before the fire truck and ambulance left.

I got back in my van and headed towards Joplin. I did not notice anyone following me until I got on the east side of Tulsa where they made sure that I noticed them. I felt that they were making sure I did not get a chance to go somewhere for help. Though I wanted to badly, I felt it would have been an instant death sentence. I just kept hoping that the call I made to the AT & T operator on December twenty-third got the FBI to start noticing.

After I got back in Joplin, I drove to the house on Pennsylvania and here came the traffic again. I left there and drove over to the shop on Wall Street. They kept driving around the shop and down Wall Street for a couple of hours. I decided to work around the inside of the shop for a while. There were at least two cars parked on the lot catty-cornered from my shop with people sitting in them at all times until around midnight when they left. I had a ladder set up in the front of my shop by the door. I could climb up and see through the top of the window through the blinds. The rest of the windows were covered with plywood and steel. I had put in some peep holes that go in doors so I could see out the back two through the garage door. I looked through the back peephole and could see the shadow of someone standing by the door and another at the front of the van. I went back to the front of the building and took a closer look. If I looked at the windows across the street I could see the reflection of my building in them and the lots on both sides of my building. I could see that someone was on the lot to the north of my shop and then every few minutes I could see someone's head bob up from the top of my roof. This was getting pretty routine. Looks like I will be staying inside the shop for another night. Obviously, I was not leaving at least until the morning, after Breckals Cabinet Factory opened up.

The next day I went by Debbie's hoping to thin down some of the traffic and ended up hanging out there for most of the day. That night we went over to the house on Pennsylvania and I noticed that the upstairs windows had a couple of blinds pulled up. Cars were driving around us, so Debbie waited in the car while I went in. She was going to drive around the block and come back. I was looking out the front window as she pulled off and they followed her. I saw someone walk into the yard. I picked up the mail and went through it, then looked at the numbers on the Caller ID. I could hear a vehicle in the alley and saw one sitting at the corner. Debbie pulled back up and I heard the one in the alley drive off. I went out the front door and got into her car. She asked me if I had gone upstairs. I told her no. She said, "Someone was, they were looking out when I pulled up.” I looked up and could see that the blinds had been moved. I knew it was not Trish because she was at work.

When we drove on off we were being followed so I thought I would take them on a stroll up and down alleys and stop at a couple of trash dumpsters to mess with them a little bit. After about four or five dumpsters, I noticed that one of them had a double bowl sink in it and I needed one at the shop. After going around several blocks with them following us, we drove on to Debbie's house. I told Debbie that I wanted that sink and that I was going to go back with the van and get it later. We had a lot of traffic in front of Debbie's house for the first couple of hours. Cars kept going around and around the block nonstop. When they would get in front of Debbie's house, they would either stop or hit their brakes to make sure we noticed them. I could not understand why her neighbors were not complaining. Then again over half of the cars belonged to people in her neighborhood. After a while I started to recognize who they were and where they lived. At the shop on Wall, the house on Pennsylvania, and driving around, I would write down their tag numbers. Then double-check to see if they matched when I would see them stalking me somewhere else and they did. There were only three houses on Debbie's side of the street and the one directly to the north was vacant. The guy that used to live there died recently. Across the street from her on the corner was a storage garage catty-cornered from her house. This bunch used to hide over there and in the lot to spy on me. About two A.M. it finally started to slow down a little, so I waited until around three A.M. when it looked quiet outside we got in the van to go get the sink out of the dumpster. When I pulled out of her driveway, I noticed two sets of headlights come on from down on the comer. They pulled out right behind us. On 41st, we picked up another car. We pulled up to the dumpster between 17th and 18th, and between Main Street and Virginia. I shined a light in there and saw several shell casings and some ___. This was a commercial dumpster. I told Debbie to drive around for a few minutes while I checked out the other stuff in this dumpster. I made it look like I had gotten back into the van and she drove off. The cars all followed her as she drove off.

I set the sink out and climbed inside of the dumpster. Once inside the dumpster, I noticed something that startled me. It was wallpaper from my house and an empty box of shells that had come out of my house on Pennsylvania. I knew that they had come from my house because it was a box that I had had for about fifteen years and it had marks on it that I had put on it a few years before. Also in the dumpster were two complete changes of clothes, including hats. These were not mine. I started thinking that if someone was trying to set me up for something these clothes might be proof or evidence. This was just about one week after the double murder in the trailer that had been burned in northeast Oklahoma and there were two sixteen-year-old girls missing. I started putting this stuff in a couple of boxes along with the shells in the box I found. There were also some gun parts, cylinders, etc. I also put them into the box with the other stuff I found.

I did not have quite all of it ready to go when Debbie pulled up. She was scared and in a hurry cause she had not been able to get the cars from following her. I told her, "Just a minute." I wanted to get the rest of this stuff. Within thirty seconds there were four or five people on foot coming towards us: two from the south end of the alley and two from the lot directly to the west. I threw in what I could and we went out the north end of the alley, turned left, then turned left again and went south on Main. Another guy was coming from the parking lot on the south side of Hardies by 18th Street. This was around three-thirty am on a weeknight. The streets are normally deserted at this time. Obviously, getting into that stuff upset somebody badly.  We drove back to Debbie's house. I hid part of it at her house and hid the rest around the shop the next day. When I came out of the shop, someone had hung another clothes hanger on my driver's side door. This was getting pretty routine for them. Chicken (Barney) called and asked us to meet him at the truck stop on Highway 43 and 144, so we drove out there. He was with the redhead he calls his sister that lives on Gum Road. He said that they had some meth at their house and wanted us to meet them there in about thirty minutes. I started thinking that lately, every time I pick up any meth, someone tries to set me up. I decided to pass and not meet them like I had told them I would. Instead, we decided to drive back to Hucheson, Kansas and see Chris Alexander again.

Just before we got to the Baxter Springs City Limit sign outside of Baxter Springs, a cop passed us, hit his brakes and made a U-turn. He caught up with us just inside the city limits and pulled us over. Debbie was driving. He said, "You were going over twenty miles over the speed limit." Just then a state patrol pulled up. The cop that stopped us was a Baxter Springs police officer. The cop walked over and talked to the state patrol for a minute, then came back and handed Debbie back her driver's license and said, "I am going to let you go this time. Just slow it down in the future." Neither one of us had our seat belts on and I had an open beer in my hand. He did not even ask who I was or anything. We drove off and Debbie could not believe he just let us go like that. I said, "I'll bet you that the state patrol saw him pulling us over asked him what he was doing pulling us over outside of the city limits before we even got to their city limits since the speed limit did not change until then. In fact, we were not even speeding and we had cars in front of us. I also bet that he was planning on taking us somewhere else to a different city or county jail. Then Debbie and I talked about how lucky we were that the state patrol showed up when he did.

We drove on to Chris Alexander's place and told him about it. Then I told him about what had happened at KC's when they were working on a car without any tools, not even a pair of pliers, but had at least three guns around it. He said he wanted to go back there with me and help but he still had a warrant for his arrest out there and I did not want to bring any more problems for him. I talked him out of it going back with me. He gave me a few of their names and told me about some of them and where they lived. He told me that a few times that he worked for them they would pay him $50.00 to sit in a room with a peep hole in it and watch to make sure nothing went wrong while the girls were in there with the tricks. He  also stated that he did not feel right about it, so he told them he did not want to do it anymore. He told me a few more things and Debbie started acting like she was getting mad about him talking about them. All of a sudden she wanted to head back to Joplin. We both  felt her uneasiness.

A few minutes later, Chris said he wanted to show me something outside. We stepped outside and both agreed not to say anything else about them in front of her. I told him we would have to talk some other time when I was alone. Then Debbie and I headed back to Joplin.

After we got back to Joplin we ran into Chicken (Barney). The first thing he said was, "You do not know how lucky you were that state patrol showed up." We ran into Chris Nelson later and he said the same thing. In fact, three different people told us the same thing before we had even told them about us being stopped in Baxter. Debbie's friend, Kelly, Jean Kennedy's sister, stopped by. She immediately noticed the cars driving around outside. She got real worried real fast, especially when she noticed that a lot of them had dark windows. She said the only way to get them to quit was to leave town. They had been after her a couple of years before; that is why she moved to Tulsa. She started to get a little shaky and left in a hurry.

I decided to go have a talk with Neil Hodges on Gum Road. I brought up the police at Baxter and Tulsa. I told him that anybody with any common sense knows that there is only one way to fight the law and that is with a bigger law and asked him to get a hold of whoever was behind this shit and tell them that they had better do something to make their wrong right and knock the shit off. Neil said he had tried to talk some sense into them, but they do not care. Somebody's kid wants something for nothing and the old man's going to see to it he gets it. I had found out that Kathy supposedly was going out with a doctor and asked if that was who it was. Neil would not tell me who it was, but he did remind me that they liked 56 Chevy’s.

Chicken (Barney) called me and asked if I could meet him on Gum Road and give him a ride. I drove down there to the trailer he had been staying at. He wanted me to give him a ride a couple miles back down to pick up some meth, then a ride into Joplin. I gave him a ride to the trailer. There were four or five people around it. They all talked like they were good friends. They said that the meth was at an apartment complex, so we drove into Joplin off 20th Street. I picked up a quarter of meth too. I knew better by now, but I did it anyway. We left there and I drove him to his friend's house off 41st. They said they were getting ready to mix up a batch. Chicken had been telling me that something real strange was going on and a lot of people had been following him too. I told him that they were pissed at him for pulling that gun out when we had drove to that trailer in Duniwig a few days earlier and saying something about if the guy next door wanted to climb thirty feet in the air up a tree to spy then he might get blown out of it. This was one of the first things that Neil had brought up when I got to his house. Apparently, word traveled fast. Chicken said he thought that our best bet was we should stick together. Then I told him I was leaving town tonight and if he wanted I would take him along. He agreed.

Then my phone rang. It was the girl he was staying with, the one he called his sister. She said that there were some people out there with guns looking for Chicken. She needed to talk to him. I put him on the phone. He talked to her for a bit then hung up. He said the names of who had been out there and said, "We have to go there and face them. They are going to be back there in thirty minutes and we need to be there to face them." It was the people from the trailer on Gum Road where he had me take him to earlier and I felt that if they had a problem with him then they would have brought it up then while we were there. He said, "We need to get going." I said, "I've had people stalking me all over the place and they've already tried to kill me at least a couple of times. You said people have been stalking you, too, and if them people from that trailer had a problem with you then they would have said something to you while we were at their house. The last thing I'm gonna do right now is drive out to the woods in the middle of the night with a bunch of sons of bitches waiting on us with guns. Forget it. I'm heading for St. Louis. I suggest you come with me." He said, "But I at least have to go out there and get my clothes first." I said, "We can pick up some more clothes for you up there. Forget it." He said, "No, I am going to go face them." Some other guy that was there said, "I will give you a ride out there." He said, "Okay, then, if you wont take me then I am going to ride out there with him. At least give me a gun." I gave him a .22 pistol and he asked if I would wait for him. I told him that I would wait for two hours at Debbie's house. He jumped in with the other guy and they took off.

I started towards Debbie's house. Almost immediately, I had three cars behind me within four blocks, so I turned and headed for the highway. I had not gone ten miles and already had two trucks and a tow truck trying to run me off the road. I cut across the highway and headed back towards Debbie's house and pulled up in her drive. There were at least half a dozen cars circling around her block. I told Debbie I was headed for Illinois and asked her if she wanted to go. She had said earlier that day she would. She got in the van and I headed back up on the highway. The cars followed us but at least now they were not trying to run me off the road.

Just on the other side of Springfield I suddenly got a flat on the driver's side of my van. I pulled on the shoulder and started thinking about the highway patrol officer that had recently got killed from getting hit on the highway last summer. I thought no way was I going to change a flat on the driver's side on I-44 right now. I picked up my cell phone and dialed 911. My phone read back top score 0. I showed it to Debbie. We tried calling 911 a few more times. Each time the phone read back top score 0. We did not know what that meant.

I decided to drive it on the rim to the next exit. There were not any stations there and we had three cars following us. I decided to go down the service road instead of back on the interstate because we saw some lights about half a mile down the road. The cars were still following us as we drove down the road.  When we got to where the lights were, it turned out to be a trucking company. I saw two drivers getting ready to get in their trucks. I thought right beside them would be a good place to change the flat. They were friendly and offered to help. The cars following us pulled up on the lot across from them and just sat in their vehicles. Well, what a surprise, my spare tire on the back of the van was flat. One of the drivers said that their mechanic was still up at the shop because he had to come in to work on a truck. He said, "Maybe you can still catch him." We drove up to their shop on the flat tire and the mechanic was still there. I told him if he would help me fix the flat spare then I would give him twenty dollars. The valve stem was broken off. He fixed my tire by hand and helped me get it on the van. I tried to pay him but he refused. He said, "You don't owe me a thing. I've been there before. I am just glad I could help."

Debbie got out while we were changing the flat and stood between me and the cars that were following us. They drove off before we got the flat fixed. We got back on the road and headed back to the interstate. We did not notice anybody following us then. So we headed up to my land in Illinois. There was not any heat there, but we did not mind. We had plenty of blankets which it turned out we did not need. We made love like there was no tomorrow. The next day, instead of driving up to Quincy we decided to drive to a motel. So we drove to Camden, Missouri and rented a motel called The Quail's Nest. We stayed there for a couple of days. It was one of the best experiences of my life. Debbie had given me something special in my life. I felt her love was true.

When left and headed back towards Joplin, I pulled into the rest area on I-44 near Mt. Vernon, Missouri, I noticed that four cars took the exit also. We sat and talked for about forty-five minutes. We decided to head on down the road and get back to Joplin. I said I was going to go to the bathroom first. I got out of the van and started towards the rest area bathroom. As I was walking, I noticed that the cars that had taken the exit at the same time we did were still there and a guy got out of each of the cars and started towards the bathroom at the same time. They had been sitting in their cars for over forty-five minutes and suddenly they all had to go to the bathroom at the same time as I did. I started thinking about the murders at the rest area by Joplin several months before. Suddenly I did not have to go as bad as I thought. I turned around and headed back towards the van. I noticed two of them heading back towards their cars. Debbie started laughing and said, "What the hell, did everybody have to go to the bathroom at once?" She had also noticed that they came from the cars that took the exit at the same time we had. I said, "I think I will just wait till I get to Joplin or find a truck stop." She agreed. As we pulled back on the highway, we noticed that they had all pulled out behind us. They followed us back all the way to Debbie's house.

Later that day, I called my brother Butch in Quincy, Illinois. I told him that we did not quite make it up there; we turned around at the hills. I said I would be back up there in a couple of days. He said, "You need to get the hell out of Joplin. You have got a sanctuary up here." I remembered his conversation with Kathy a couple of weeks earlier. He said, "Glen does not know what is going on yet, does he?" Kathy said no. He told me that although he did not run with and was not part of them he knew who a lot of the mobsters were in Quincy. He also had friends that knew them and he could that I would be safe there. I had a couple of messages from Chicken on my cell phone. I am back, where are you at? I called around a few places and nobody had seen him. Looking back, I wished that I would have stuck with him or if he would have just come back around. Maybe things would have been a little different for the next couple of months. But I was afraid that they would have killed him if they had not already. I was hoping that he took my advice and got out of there.

I drove over to the shop on Wall and parked on the southwest corner of the building. As I opened up the back of the van, I looked over to Wall Street and here coming down the street was nine of their vehicles driving along at about five miles an hour lined up one behind the other. They wanted to make damn sure I saw them. These were some of the big boys, for sure. They were all high-dollar vehicles with dark windows, putting on quite a show. By now I had put up with all their shit I needed to. I thought, "It's time to put an end to this or at least get it out in the open." I reached into the van and picked up one of the two nine shot twelve gauge shotguns I had in there. They were loaded to the gills with three inch magnum shells. Two and a half once shot with 00 buck shot. It was the shot I had dreamed about, a chance in a lifetime. This many big boys lined up for the taking. I figured that the first three would just get a glimpse of what was happening. The next three or four would not have a chance to react, they would just run into the backs of each other with nowhere to go. At the very best, only the last two might have stood a slight chance. Because they were driving about five feet apart from each other so they did not stand much of a chance. They were sitting ducks.

Suddenly, The Quail's Nest flashed across my mind. I started thinking about Debbie and The Quail's Nest Motel. I sat the gun back in the van. Debbie was the only thing that had saved their lives. If I could take anything back during this whole ordeal, it would be that moment. God, I wish I would have gone ahead and took that shot. It would have changed everything. Especially the next few months and probably change the way they were doing people. These people make it their hobby to spend their time destroying other people's lives. Other people's lives have no value whatsoever to them. It's just a game to them. I had several chances to take out several of their little "yes, boss, I'll kiss your ass" cowards here and there, but it probably would not have done much good. By the high-dollar vehicles they were driving, this was the one chance I had to help the whole town and a lot of the country and I passed it up thinking about myself, Debbie and The Quail's Nest Motel. Though it only took about thirty seconds for them to pass it felt like days. I was kicking myself all the way back towards Debbie's house.

Robin Baldwin called me later the next day. She was still at the hospital. I had been trying to get in touch with her for several weeks. The last I had heard anything, she had been within inches of her life and had been in intensive care and were only letting close family members visit her. This happened a very short time after she got me out of the building on Wall when they had it surrounded with me in it and no way out, on my own. She told me what room she was in so I went to visit her. They were getting ready to put her on a kidney dialysis machine. I drove up to see her. She was still in rough shape even though a lot of time had passed. I asked her if what had happened had anything to do with me. She said no, but I had my doubts. I told her that I had been staying with Debbie.

Later, I drove to the trailer east of Duniwig where the kids from Wyoming had been staying. They were nowhere to be found. I drove back to the shop on Wall and started going through some of the boxes and crates that I had stored above the ceiling and in the back room. I noticed that thousands of dollars worth of my stuff had been stolen. Someone on a four-wheeler was in back of the shop. He started spinning around and tearing the hell out of my parking lot. Then he drove over to the body shop next door and two guys driving in a late model black Ford pickup helped him load it into the back of their pickup, then started south on Wall. This pickup was one of them that had been stalking me.

I called the police and told them what had happened and gave them the license plate number off of the pickup and told them which way they were headed. They said they would send an officer over. I waited for about an hour and they never showed up, so I drove over to Debbie's. I told her what happened. We called the police again and gave them the guy's license plate number over the phone. They told us to go back over to the building and they would send someone out. We drove over to the building and waited and waited, then called the police two or three more times. After about three hours, we gave up. Apparently I should not have given his license plate number over the phone and told them that he lived  or hung out on 41st right off of Indiana Street. I pulled the van inside the shop and made sure that I unloaded the guns and put them in cases. We finally gave up on them and went back to Debbie's.

Late that night, we decided to go to Wal-Mart and to stop by a house to try and find Stacey. We stopped in back of the shop on the way. I told Debbie that some guy out at Tanya Jacobs had told me that you could detect if there was a bug around by taking an AM radio and turning the tuner. If there were any bugs around you would hear the sounds from where you were on the radio. We started messing with the tuner and suddenly picked up the cassette that was playing inside of the building. Then took the cassette out and put it in the van. We picked the cassette playing up on three different places on the portable AM radio. I said, "There is definitely a bug in here."

We then drove out the road in back of the shop and drove down Byers to 10th Street and started going west. There was a car with his headlights on just sitting at a side street about eight or ten blocks in front of us. As we got closer to it we noticed it was a cop car. Just as we passed him he pulled out behind us. We caught the light on 10th and Madden Lane Green. The cop was about half a block behind us. He caught the red light. We drove north on Madden Lane to Seventh and turned west. We turned on a side street to go to Stacey's but it was one block too soon. It went about two blocks then came to a dead end. We turned around and started back towards seventh. About half a block before we got to Seventh, the cop drove by on seventh. He saw us and made a U-turn. As we were pulling out on Seventh, he pulled onto the street and made another U-turn behind us. Then hit his lights. There was a Quick Trip about half a block in front of us. So I put on my turn signal and drove on up to the Quick Trip so there would be witnesses around.

I got out of the van and said, "Why did you stop me?" He said, "First I am going to find drugs on you, then I am going to beat your ass. You are under arrest for failing to yield to an emergency vehicle. Why didn't you stop when I first hit my lights back there?" I said, "There was not anywhere to pull over back there. Besides that, you look like someone that might beat my ass if I stopped on a dark street." He handcuffed me and started going through my pockets. I had a loaded 22 pistol in my pocket that I had forgotten about. He took it out. Just then, another cop pulled onto the lot. I was sure glad to see him. The first cop put me in the back of his car, then searched Debbie and the van. It turned out that Debbie knew the second cop. His daughter ran with Debbie's daughter. Two more cops pulled in and they helped him search the van. I was not too worried because I knew the stop was illegal and they were not going to find any drugs. We had went all through the van earlier to make sure nothing was in it. Besides that, it had been long enough since I had done any. I knew that I could pass a drug test if I had to. Debbie was talking to the cop she knew. She was telling him what an asshole the other cop was and how he came about stopping us and what he had said.

However, I had seven unloaded guns in the van all in cases.  They took at least five guns out of the van and laid them against the hood of a car. The cop came over to where I was and said that he was taking me to jail and charging me with unlawful use of a weapon and failing to yield to an emergency vehicle, and then wrote me out two tickets. I asked him if he would give, Debbie my wallet so she could bail me out; It had a couple hundred dollars in it. He said, "Sorry, but anything on you stays on you," then he put my wallet in my shirt pocket and tapped it. I was glad he did because he had just given me back my credit cards so now I could bond myself out on a cash bond, which he said would be five hundred dollars. He drove me to the station and let Debbie take the van, then drove me to the jail. Then he left. He didn't take my guns out. He drove off right after telling them what to charge me with. I told them I wanted to use my credit card to bond myself out. They went ahead and processed it, then let me use the phone. I called Debbie and told her to come and get me. When she got there, they let me go. Debbie said on the way home that the police had stopped her again and searched the van again.

We started up Main Street heading towards Debbie's house. When we got to the red light on 4th and Main going south, another cop pulled up to the light going north. When the light changed, the cop passed us and made a U-turn and came up behind us. Debbie was driving. He stopped us around 12th Street. Debbie said, "Why are you stopping us?" He said, "You were weaving all over the road." I said, "That's why the cameras are in this van," and pointed them out to him. I said, "You see us weaving all over the road and I see us sitting at a red light." He said, "You've got cameras in here?" I said, "Yes," and pointed them out to him again. He said, "I won't stop you anymore tonight and I did not have anything to do with them other guys stopping you earlier," then let us go. This was the third time they had stopped me in an hour and a half. We drove on to Debbie's house.

Debbie and I drove down to the police station the next day or within a couple of days. I went in and talked to the chief of police, Edward Dennis, and complained about it and filed a complaint about the guy tearing up my lot. I told him that a cop that drives a red pickup and lives around Moffett Street had been stalking me for a couple of months and I was told that someone in an important position supposedly had an interest in my wife. I told him seven guns were missing out of my van and I wanted a copy of the police report with a list of my guns he had taken because when they released me they didn't give me one. He said the report said that he only took four guns. So I gave him a list of which ones were missing. He told the cop that was in there with us, "I might ought to turn this into Internal Affairs."

I drove out to Neil's house later and reminded him that the only way to fight the law was with a bigger law and if they were fucking over someone that I knew then they better do something to make it right. He said, "You can't talk to them. They don't care." I left there and drove up to the truck stop and filled up with gas. I noticed several of them starting to gather around. They were sitting in their cars watching me. I got into my van and started towards the highway. When I got to the highway, they had blocked the on ramp to eastbound 1-44. I crossed over the interstate. I saw that they had vehicles waiting on 43 North so I went down the ramp to get on West 1-44 going towards Tulsa. They followed me and tried to run me off the road a couple of times. I got on my cell phone and called four or five people and told them that if they didn't hear from me within the next couple of days to call the FBI.

I got to Tulsa and Debbie called wanting to know where I was. I told her I was in Tulsa and I would catch up with her in a while. I pulled into a truck stop and sat for a little while, then I started back towards Joplin. After about thirty miles, I saw that they had a tow truck and a car parked on the shoulder. In front of it were three people standing with their heads bowed down. They had three blankets lying in front of them making it look like they were standing over bodies. They made sure I would notice them. I recognized one of them. He was approximately in his mid-50s and had a short beard. I had seen him out at Neil's before. A short way past them they had some flowers laid out.

I drove on back to Debbie's house. They tried to cut me off a couple of more times on the highway. I dialed 911 a couple of times. Then I called a couple of more people and told them that if they didn't hear from me within a couple of days then to call the FBI. I figured that my best shot was to hope that one of them would call the FBI and they would start following me and would see what was going on. I figured that if I called them myself that they would kill someone close to me or whoever they were racking over to prevent them from talking. Or if I called the police they might send out one that was in on it with them or the cars would all disappear to somewhere and they would try and make it look like I was just imagining the whole thing to try and have me put away the way that they did with other people. It was the way they worked: get someone to give them a line of meth, then follow and harass them and if they reported it, it would look like they were out there on drugs and they could laugh their asses off about how they had set up another one. Or else maybe they could get you to panic and get into an accident. I began to understand their way of thinking. Neil had told me that I didn't know how lucky I was that I had filed that Exparta because now they had to worry about an investigation if something happened to me that looked like anything other than an accident or self-destruction because he said I put the magic words in the Exparta order:

"Her friends," which they thought would bring on the investigation. I figured my best bet for me and some of the others that they had set up in the past was for someone to start investigating me and then they would see how they worked at destroying other people's lives. Then maybe it would put an end to it.

After I got back over to Debbie's house I told her that I was going to take a week and spend one hundred thousand dollars. I was going to get all cash advance and write checks and give relatives that money. I checked on the balance of five or six cards. They were at zero balance and credit from seven thousand to sixteen thousand. Debbie insisted that I not do it. So we end up driving to Quincy instead and just visiting for a couple of days. It turned out that President Clinton was going to be in Quincy at the same time we were. But we didn't know it until after we got up there.

We were followed from the time we left Debbie's house. About thirty miles outside of Joplin, we passed the van exactly like mine on the shoulder. They had it parked at an angle so I would be sure and notice it. By now I had found out the guy that was usually driving it. His last name was Lamb; Chad or Dave was his first. As we passed him, he pulled out and got in the line of cars following us. At Lebanon, Missouri we turned to go through Camden on the way up there. By now there were some of them in- front of us and behind us. We stopped at a station. They were parked all around us. I figured that they were setting a trap. I pulled around to the lot in back of the station. Debbie said, "Look at them! What are we going to do?" They had followed us to the back of the lot. I said, "Did you ever see the movie with Chevy Chase, Spies Like Us?  Remember what they did when they shot off the missiles and thought the world had ended?" Then we climbed in back of the van and started having sex. I bet they thought we were crazy. They just sat and watched the van rock.

When we were finished rocking the van, we drove to Quincy and looked for a motel. We stopped at the Quality Inn on Broadway Street. There was hardly anywhere to park, so we ended up parking next to a Secretary of State bomb squad truck. When we went into the hotel, there were a lot of agents and such inside the lobby. I had a .338 Magnum rifle and a 30.06 automatic rifle on me. I thought, oh, shit, this was not very bright. Then I noticed that they were not paying any attention to us. I started to say, "Hey, what's the matter with this picture?" and show them the guns and how lax their security was. But I figured that instead of appreciating it, I figured they would have pounced on me and made it look like they had caught a terrorist.

We rented us a room. I could not believe it: they had rented us a room on the third floor street side and it had sliding windows that opened. I took the rifle out and laid it on the bed, then walked over and opened up the window.  I looked at Debbie and said, "You want to go down in history? If they parked the plane just right we might even be able to see when he steps off the plane." Debbie could not believe it. They did not even ask us for ID. when we checked in and it was a good thing because she had given Kathy's name instead of hers. And the motorcade was going to drive right down Broadway. A .338 Magnum rifle is one hell of a powerful gun. We decided to drive out to Bruce's house. I wasn't about to carry the guns past them again. The van was loaded down with guns. I had loaded most of them because of the people that had started following us from Joplin. We got into the van and drove out to Bruce's. He lived outside of, Illinois, about twenty miles north of Quincy. I did not feel comfortable about having the van in Quincy with all of the guns in it, especially after calling several people and telling them to call the FBI. Bruce let us take his car back to the motel.

We got up early the next morning and left before the President arrived in Quincy. I figured that with all of the security at the motel that the Secretary of State was probably staying at the same motel we were. I wanted to get the hell out of there before one of them realized how lax and stupid their security was being. We decided to go out to Bruce's and stay until the presidential show was completely over with. We drove on back to Joplin after the show was over. After we got back, I decided to double-check the credit cards so I had Debbie call them up to check the balances. The first four cards that she called had been maxed out. Someone had charged up over forty thousand dollars on my cards while we were in Quincy. I called the credit card companies and asked them to send me copies of the charges so I could figure out where they were coming from. I figured either Kathy had been running them up as fast as she could or else someone had got a hold of them. I had four or five possible suspects. But I wouldn't know for sure what had been charged until I saw the statements. Over the next several months, I called the credit card companies several times to try and get copies of the statements but I never received them. I went to the post office and complained several times that I was not  getting my mail. I bet that I had been down there at least a dozen times since August of 1999. I even mailed myself letters to see what would happen. Most of them just disappeared, but a couple came back to the return address that I had put down saying "Unable to Deliver" or something to that effect. I took them down and showed them to the Postmaster. Once the mailman stopped by my building on Wall and apologized.

I talked to a guy named Skip Walker and he refused to give me my mail. He said that he wasn't going to give me my mail without going through Kathy first because he knew that we were having problems. I said, "Mail that has my name only on it has nothing to do with you, her or anybody else. How about I show you my driver's license and you give me my mail?" He said that nothing was coming out of that box until he talked to Kathy, and then threatened to call the police on me. His attitude didn't surprise me because his last name matched up with those I'd heard mentioned as belonging to people who were part of the problem: Walker, Martin, Williams, Wray, Jones, Parker, Boyer, Wright and a few more. I was told it was a big family with a lot of relations. A lot of people in town were afraid of them.

I could see why, considering the number of people I'd met who had dead husbands. Debbie's friend, Cristy Swagart, had three dead husbands behind her. (Cristy is the one who had gone on a date with the doctor who was real kinky, liked to get pissed on and everything else; she saw it as a quick $300.) Another friend of Debbie's, Lanna, had one murdered husband and one dead boyfriend. Her friend, Cindy Mahaffy, who worked for Freeman Hospital, had a dead husband. Debbie's old boss, Shellie, had missing boyfriends. Debbie's friend, Donaldson, from Neosho, had a dead husband. Even Debbie's sister had a dead husband. A girl named Frazier had a dead husband.  Robin Baldwin's husband was found with a rope around his neck and his knees slightly bent. Had his knees been straight, he would have been standing instead of hanging - but they called it a suicide.

Other people in town had died under mysterious circumstances, as well. A friend of mine. Tony Dural, told me that he had a cousin who was scheduled to testify against them. The friend supposedly had broken into a pharmacy and OD'ed. A similar fate befell Chris Alexander's friend, Huffer, who lived west of the U.F.W. on North Main Street. He was found dead, allegedly of an overdose. Chris said there was no way this guy would have OD'ed on his own because he knew exactly what he was doing. They had found out that Huffer was planning to testify against them. I was told that they took him out into the woods and (hot-shotted?) him. The same thing happened to Pete Edmand, whom they hot-shotted and then drove to the Food for Less parking lot. They were pissed because after they got out of the car, he was in. The guy who dropped him off there took off running from the car, and they were worried that someone might have seen.

Debbie's friend, Trish, had a live ex-husband, but a business building he owned was mysteriously blown to bits. Every boyfriend Debbie had ever had was dead except for one, Frankie McKinnon, and he soon would be, too, thanks to the Newton County Sheriffs Department. There recently had been an incident in northeast Oklahoma where the cops shot and killed a guy at a traffic stop. The guy's girlfriend, a girl named Wright, took off running. She was found dead a couple of days later. Jerry Walker's friend, Mrs. Moist had five previous husbands, all dead. Larry Wallace's girlfriend Raney's boyfriend had left town in a hurry. Almost all of these women I've mentioned either worked for Freeman Hospital, worked near it, or had close friends who worked for Freeman. Neil had told me that the doctor Kathy was going with might have even written me a prescription once. The old bitch, Mary Livingston, who lived next door to us on Pennsylvania Street, had a dead husband. So did Mrs. Walker, who lived across the street a couple of houses to the north. Supposedly, the Walkers' neighbor's son hung himself in jail. Debbie's next-door neighbor, with whom she'd never gotten along, was dead. All of these deceased people seemed to have a lot in common: their wives worked in the medical field or had close friends who did. Almost all of the wives knew each other, had friends who were connected to Freeman, or had friends who messed around with the meth dealers.

Berry Dobbs called and said he was in town and wanted to stop by. I told him to come on over to Debbie's house. When he came by, Debbie and I were sitting there and he started talking. He told me Kathy didn't want to share anything; she wanted all or nothing. He said that they had suckered her in by showing her the money and she fell for it. But they really just wanted to fuck her. "Now she's in too deep to get out," he said. "She's screwed." He urged me to get out of town, saying that it wasn't worth my life. He didn't know that every time I left town by myself, they either tried to kill me or tried to get me in an accident. I could see the medical report.. .I'd have a little injury like a cut finger, but the report would read: "Bled to Death." I thought I might be just about as well off living by the motto of "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," meanwhile hoping that a true law enforcement organization would take notice of what was going on and do something. I drove over to the trailer where the guys from Wyoming were staying to check on them and discovered that they were gone. I decided that I wouldn't go around any of my old friends because I didn't want anything to happen to them for trying to help me.

I drove out to Tonya Jacob's place - well, more accurately, her boyfriend Rod's place. Rod was a pretty good guy, but no sooner had he got in with Tonya than he started doing drugs. She showed him how they could make money off it, then he conveniently got busted and put in jail. When I arrived at Rod's, I saw that some of the crowd that had been hanging out on my bumper was staying around his place. I went ahead and picked up a gram from Tonya, so I would have some around in case I needed to stay up some time while they were on me.

I left, and drove by the house on Pennsylvania. Here came the cars. I asked Kathy the name of the doctor she'd been messing with, but she wouldn't tell me. Something wasn't right. After what everybody had been telling me, I figured that she should be a wreck, or at least severely traumatized. Who knows, maybe she had just accepted the situation. Or, maybe she was in on it with them, trying to take care of me. Or, maybe it was Trish (the girl who lived upstairs) they were messing with. I had seen Trish's boyfriend, Travis, stalking me on several occasions. I asked Kathy about the credit cards. She denied using any of them.

I drove back over to Debbie's. The cars that followed kept driving around and around the block. A friend of Debbie's stopped by and wanted to know what in the hell was going on. Debbie said, "Oh, don't worry about them. They're our friends. They like to just come by and wave at us." Her friend got out of there in a hurry - she suddenly remembered that she had to go somewhere! We stayed up most of the night watching the cars. Debbie said something about wanting to make sure that I didn't have a drug problem if I was going to be around her daughter on a regular basis. By way of reply, I mentioned that I'd been wanting to go to the Super Show in Atlanta, Georgia, and afterwards drive down to Orlando, Florida, to visit a friend of mine. I suggested that Debbie come with me, so I could prove to her that I didn't have a drug problem. She would be with me the whole time, twenty-four hours a day, and would be able to tell if I did anything. "Six months ago, I might have had a problem," I said, but that was only because the company that came around back then was constantly doing drugs. I guess that was part of their plan: first, get him strung out on drugs in order to destroy his credibility. I had caught on to their scheme over the course of the past few months and had weaned myself off the dope to the point where I could leave it alone - which I had been doing pretty regularly.

For example, I hadn't done the gram I'd gotten off Tonya. I mainly had purchased it to see if the cars would start up immediately after I picked it up, which they did. I told Debbie that I had picked it up and that I wasn't planning on doing it unless we weren't planning on driving anywhere. Debbie's friend, Cristy, and her new man stopped by. We decided to break the gram out. Debbie and I sat up and talked with them the whole night. They left the next morning, but later that day, Cindy and her boyfriend stopped by. We ended up being up with them that whole night, then spent the whole next day running around. This made three days in a row. We were completely out of dope and more than ready to take a break and get some sleep. I decided to go and check the mail first. I stopped at the post office, then decided to stop by the house and check the mail over there while Kathy was at work. When I arrived at the house, I decided to go through the desk and take out some of my stuff. I'd been gone about an hour and a half when Debbie called. She was wondering if something had happened to me. She said her old boyfriend, Rob Armstrong, had shown up unexpectedly and she was worried about me and worried about herself. I felt bad because I had told her I would only be gone for about thirty minutes. I headed straight to Debbie's house.

As soon as I opened the door, I could tell by the expression on Debbie's face and the way Rob was looking that there was going to be a fight. I could tell that he had been harassing her. I also knew that fighting Rob wasn't gonna do my bad back any good. I looked at the end of the couch and spotted the stun gun lying there. I started to sit in the chair next to the couch, but as I was bending down, I noticed that Rob was coming up. Obviously, he planned to try and Sunday me as I sat down. Instead, I reached over and picked up his coat on the end of the couch. He leaned back and I sat right next to him. This threw him a curve. I reached down and put my hand on the stun gun. I wasn't in any shape to be fighting. I figured if anything happened, I would just zap him and tell him to get the hell out of there. Rob said, "Well, Glen, what have you been doing, lately?" Figuring I might as well get it over with and not waste any time, I said, "Her -every chance I get." Deb was sitting on the other end of the couch next to Rob. When I said that, she jumped up and headed towards the kitchen. My response had thrown Rob a curve; he didn't know quite how to answer. He started talking about the game on TV. Debbie came back into the living room. I said, "Debbie, did you tell Rob that our trip to the river boat turned into more than just a trip, and that we're together now, so if he wants to come over in the future, he needs to call first?"

Rob jumped up, swinging with his left hand. I ducked, and lunged towards him with the stun gun. I hadn't been expecting him to swing left-handed; I went right past him. He saw the stun gun and grabbed my arm with both hands. The stun gun was useless. I couldn't zap him with him holding my arm like that and he wasn't going to turn me loose as long as I had the gun in my hand. I threw it towards the comer of the room. He let go of my arm, and I busted him a good one. He went down. Judging by the way he was bleeding, he must have hit the comer of the coffee table because I didn't think I'd hit him that hard.

That should have been the end of the fight. But evidently someone had primed him all up for this fight. Rob must have thought he had someone waiting outside to come and help him or something, because instead of quitting, he went for the stun gun. I hit him again, then kicked the stun gun to the other side of the room. He went after it, and I grabbed him. We rolled around a little and he rolled up on top and drew back to swing. I grabbed him by the throat, then kicked him in the back of the head four or five times. He almost blacked out. He started to lean forwards. I quit. Again, this should have been the end of the fight. After a few seconds, Rob started getting his senses back. Instead of getting up, he tried to take another swing at me. I punched him four or five times in the face. He almost went out again. I stopped again.

He then leaned forwards and tried to bite me. This steamed me because I knew that he had bit Debbie before. I thought that I would let him see how it felt. I grabbed him by the throat and sank my teeth into his chest. Then, he was ready to quit. He said, "I quit. Let go." I let up, but I didn't let go. He suddenly jerked up and tried to get in a swing. I felt a piece of meat come loose; I let go of that one and grabbed another. Now he was ready to quit. I let him up. He lunged forward and tried to swing at me again, then tried to grab my hair. I had one hand on his throat and, with my other hand, grabbed his hair right above the back of his neck. The fight should have been long over by now. Rob said, "OK, let go of my hair." I let up, but again, didn't let go. When he thought he was free, he jerked around to try one more time. I felt a whole handful of hair come loose from his scalp; I grabbed another handful. Now, he was ready to quit (again). I let him go and started to sit down.

As I was sitting down, he tried to come again, so I drilled him in the nuts. He started backing up. When he got to the door, he stopped. I started to sit down on the couch. He grabbed the stun gun off the floor. He made sure it was working, then started to step towards me. I reached down and picked up the ash tray off the coffee table, looked Rob right in the eye, and had a conversation without words: "I'm done. If you come towards me again, I'm gonna hurt you bad." He got the message. He looked at Debbie, then turned and ran out the door, throwing down the stun gun as he ran.

Mandy, Debbie's daughter, had called the police during the fight. They must have been sitting practically on the comer when she called, because they were there in a second. I thought it was Rob coming back - maybe he had just taken ten steps and decided to turn around? The whole fight hadn't lasted two minutes and I figure it must have been going pretty good before Mandy got to her senses and picked up the phone, so to arrive there that quickly the cops could not have been more than two blocks away. I couldn't believe that they hadn't seen Rob run out the door. When the cops looked at Mandy and saw how shaken up she was, they were pissed. They had been called to the house a couple of times before when Rob had gotten drunk and started slapping the shit out of Debbie and tearing up her house. The whole time I was fighting with him, I'd been trying to be careful not to tear her house up; as best I could, I was trying to keep the fight in the middle of the floor. Rob had a pretty good record for DUI's and for starting shit. The police wanted to charge him with breaking and entering and assault. He already was on probation, and with his record I figured that they would give him several years.

I felt that he hadn't come over there because he was jealous of me being with Debbie. He had known that we had been together for over a month, and he and Debbie had been split up for more than two months. No, he had come over because someone had put him up to it. They had primed him all up for it. He had taken a major beating that he would not soon forget and three-fourths of it was unnecessary. It should have been a two-hit fight. The only reason he took a beating like that was because he felt he had to impress someone, the person who had put him up to it. His brother, Mike "Amy" Armstrong, had just gotten out of jail and maybe Rob was trying to impress him. I didn't know, but either way I figured he had learned a lesson and had already paid enough. I didn't think he would be back. I told the police that we didn't want to press charges, but they acted like they weren't going to leave until we did. So, I called Mandy over and said, "If Rob ever comes around your mom again, calls her, or bothers her in any way, then you call this officer and no matter where I'm at, I'll go ahead and press charges." With that, the officer said, "You've got eighteen months from today to press charges." He told me he would keep the report on file. Then, they left.

Debbie was afraid that I would have trouble because of what had happened. She started to call some people to let them know that Rob had started the fight and to tell them the truth about what had happened. I called a couple of people and suggested they warn Amy that I wasn't planning on putting up with any shit, so if he wanted to start any with Deb or me, Rob would end up having charges filed against him and it wasn't likely to do his parole any good.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Earlier, I had noticed that someone had left a note in my van that read "February 5th." I wondered if it meant anything. I got to thinking about what they would gain if I were to die in an "accident." At the time all of this started, I had been worth approximately half a million. I couldn't see these people thinking they would gain that much for somebody's son who supposedly wanted something for nothing; and even if he got the whole half million, he still would have had to take it away from Kathy (which I admit probably wouldn't be all that hard, since she isn't very bright). I went to Attorney Phil Glades, opened a trust account and set up a will, then signed the property over so that it was out of my name. I then had papers drawn up making Butch and Bruce legal guardians in case something happened to me and I couldn't take care of myself. I got to thinking I had left something out. Then I realized that, between my regular life insurance policy and my credit cards, I was insured for over five million in the case of accidental death. Suddenly, a lot more possibilities came into play in terms of what they thought they might gain if I were to die. In order for them to collect the max, it needed to be an accident; lately, I'd had my share of near misses. I wondered if they knew how much I was insured for. I thought of how foolish it was of me to have insured myself for that much, with just one beneficiary.

I drove to a gas station south of Web City and ran into Tom Bowers. He asked me if I would ride over to Web City with him. I said, "Sure," and we drove over there. We saw some of Radian's hands working on a yard, and Tom pulled up next to them. I got out and started talking to them. I noticed Ken Galoway working about half a block away. I also saw two people parked in two different cars about three-fourths of a block away. They had followed us there. I walked over and began talking to Ken. He said that he had moved to Neosho and saw Kathy coming and going from a house down the street from him all the time. I told him that something was going on, that I had people following me all over the place. I pointed to the cars down the street and said, "Watch when I leave and see if they don't follow me." He said he used to work as a private detective and assured me he would check around and see what he could find out. I went back over to where Tom was and he gave me a ride back to my van. As we pulled out, the other two cars followed. I saw Ken writing down their tag numbers, which is what he'd said he would do if they started following us. A couple of days later, I tracked Ken down again. He was working in another yard. He acted like he didn't notice me. I got out and walked over to him and asked him if he had found out anything. He said, "The Mafia has eyes and ears everywhere," and kind of turned away.

On February the fifth, I had traffic all around me constantly. I was at Debbie's house and they kept riding around the block. Around one o'clock in the morning, I decided to go to the store. I stopped at the Quick Trip on Main. They followed me there. On the way back, I decided to ride around a little and let them parade through another neighborhood. I started towards the west side of town. I drove past Cliff Martin's apartment on Forty-third and Main. He was out in his front yard talking to some guy. He waved at me and I pulled up and parked. I got out and said, "There seems to be a hell of a lot of traffic around tonight — especially around me." He said, "They've been all over for the past couple of hours." The guy with him was Bobby, who hangs out with Neil Hodges a lot. Bobby said he'd been in a pretty bad fight and that he needed to get out to Neil's place on Gum Road. He had been trying to get Cliff to give him a ride, but Cliff said he wasn't going anywhere with that much traffic around; "Something big is going on and I don't want to find out what it is." I told him I wasn't going anywhere except Debbie's (which was just a few blocks away) because there was too much traffic for me, as well. I went on and left them in the yard.

The next morning, Neil showed up at Debbie's house. He was driving his car hauler. He told me that the previous evening he'd done some work on a truck belonging to some asphalt guys from Illinois and they owed him $800. He thought they were going to try and slip off without paying him. He said that they were staying at a campsite down around Neosho and wanted to know if I would ride down there with him and let him haul my car. He wanted to pull up in a vehicle they wouldn't recognize to prevent them from trying to take off the minute they saw his truck, so he suggested that when we got within a couple of blocks from where they were staying, we could unload my car and drive it through the camp site. My van wasn't running right, so I said, "How about Debbie's car?" Neil said, "That one ought to work just as good." So, we loaded Debbie's car up on the back of the car hauler he was driving and started towards Neosho. He warned me that we might have a little trouble. I had a stun gun and a pistol on me.

When we were a little east of Neosho, we stopped on a side road and unloaded the car. We then drove to an asphalt plant that some workers were in the process of dismantling. We drove up and talked to them. Neil asked them if they had seen the truck or the guys from Illinois. They said no. We drove through a couple of campsites not far from the plant. They were full of RV's and such, but we saw no sign of the vehicle we were looking for. We went back to Neil's car hauler and loaded the car back onto the back of it. Neil thought they might be staying at a different campsite and wanted to go check out a couple more. We started working our way back north. We drove all through several camp sites, some in out-of-the-way places that I never even knew existed, others that appeared to be nothing more than makeshift sites erected on private property. I couldn't understand why they were all filled with RV's and campers at this time of year. It really wasn't the tourist or traveling season yet; this was only February the 5th or 6th.

We drove through a campsite southeast of Carthage and east of Duniwig, then stopped at a small convenience store nearby. Neil asked the store's employees if they had seen a couple of gypsies from Illinois who'd been doing a little asphalt work in the area. They said they hadn't noticed any. A couple of guys pulled up in a pickup. They were roughhouse-looking characters. They came over to us and started talking to Neil. They looked at me and at the car on the back of Neil's ride. Then one of them said, "That ought to do the trick. It should be over soon now." Neil agreed with them, and they stepped to the side a little and continued to talk. I went back into the store and bought a can of soda. We got back in Neil's car hauler and started north towards Carthage. We visited three or four more camps a little north and east of Carthage, then drove back to Joplin. We had been riding around checking out campsites for over five hours. Neil said that he was just gonna have to drive up to Illinois in a couple of weeks to collect because he takes his $800 seriously. He said that he had their cell phone, so he would be able to track them down. The asphalt guys had rented their phone from a place in Springfield, Missouri, instead of bringing one with them. Neil knew where they'd rented it from and he also knew who all they'd been calling, so he was sure he would catch up with them.

The next day I drove over to the shop on Wall Street. My son, Mike, and a friend of his were working a vehicle in the back of the shop. Mike said, "About thirty minutes ago, a tow truck came flying across the lot and drove real fast over there and two guys jumped out. They unhooked that blue truck over there, then jumped back into their tow truck, floored it, and took off out of here as fast as they could." I went over to the blue truck. It was an older model. Only half of it was there; someone had taken a cutting torch to it and the back half of it was gone. It looked like it might have been something that was part of a larger truck - a one-ton, or larger. A few days later, the blue truck was gone.

Two months later, someone discovered a body in the trunk of a car that had been parked a couple of hundred feet southwest of my building. The news said that the body had been dead approximately two months and was so badly decomposed that they were sending it to Columbia, Missouri, for an autopsy. Neil thought it was funny how the body was so badly decomposed that it just fell apart while they were trying to remove it.

In the week following February the fifth, I noticed excessive amounts of trash in the alleys behind the houses of several of the people who had been following me. It wasn't just regular trash. It was clothes, and furniture of the type you might find in an RV or camper. A lot of it looked awful nice to be throwing away. The most unusual thing about all of this trash that suddenly started appearing was that it was put out five or six days before trash day. This wasn't the first time I'd seen large amounts of trash in the alleys, but usually it was put out in the spring - and just a day or two before trash ran, not several days before. I took a few videos and pictures.

I was working with my son at the back of the shop, when someone set the building southwest of mine on fire. It was an old, abandoned building. Winos and homeless people used to hang out there. Whoever started the fire must have used an inflammatory agent to help it along because within a few minutes the building had flames shooting up 30 feet above it. The fire was definitely set. I didn't know if they were trying to send me a message, or if the idea was to get rid of the winos and homeless to prevent them from finding the dead body in the car too soon (the body, when eventually discovered, was close by the building).

I kept thinking about all of those campsites filled with RV's and campers that Neil and I had driven through and about all of the extra trash that had been put out right afterwards. It reminded me of a conversation I'd had with an old friend of mine when I was working in Springfield, Missouri, for Snyder Construction. Kenny Rowe and I commuted together from Joplin to Springfield for several months. One day while we were driving along, Kenny stated that he knew someone who was in the Mafia. He said that when different mob towns get into it with each other, whichever town wins gets to take all of the loser's stuff and take the other town's dealings over. At the time, I thought it sounded kind of far-fetched and that Kenny was just trying to make conversation. I am surprised that I remembered the conversation so plainly. I guess it stuck in my mind because it was something that sounded so far out of the ordinary and so hard (but yet easy) to imagine or picture. I thought to myself, "Nah, surely not" - but then again, it was about the only thing I could think of that might explain the presence of so many high-dollar RV's and nice vehicles in all of those backwoods campsites. I remembered Butch telling me that while he himself wasn't in the mob, he knew many people who were. A lot of them lived in Quincy. I had been noticing a lot of Illinois plates around, lately.

Neil had once told me that I didn't know how lucky I was that I had a very good friend in a very important position. He had wanted me to try and guess who it was. I Would not take any guesses. I told him I could think of a few people it could be, but I didn't want to guess the wrong one. He had told me that in filing the Exparta against Kathy in March of '99, I'd saved my life. He said I had no idea how close I'd come to death; I didn't have two days left, tops, at the time I filled out the Exparta Neil told me that the thing that saved my life was the fact that I included mention of Kathy's friends in the Exparta and said that I was worried about them. He said that when I wrote that down, the people who wanted me dead began worrying that someone might start investigating their activities. Neil told me that someone took notice of what I'd written and notified my friend. It changed everything, because when something is filed in the public records, it supposedly stays in them.

I still had people following me almost twenty-four hours a day, though they seemed to have backed off a little. Someone had reminded me about getting into it with Rob and had warned me about his brother, Amy. I thought I would go by and talk to Cliff Martin and see if he knew Amy or knew how to get a hold of him - and while I was at Cliff's, why not pick up a little more "go powder"? Cliff was in a room off of the kitchen. Someone was in there with him and, as a common sense rule, the door was closed; there was probably a deal going on. I waited in the kitchen. Cliffs wife and another girl were sitting at the table, so I sat down and started talking to them. The other girl said something about having lived in Wyoming for a while. I'd lived in Wyoming for about five or six years, so I asked, "What part?" She said, "Gillette." Gillette happened to be the town I'd lived in while I was working in the oil field, so we started discussing different bars, restaurants and streets. She had definitely been there. I asked Cliff's wife if she knew who Mike, also known as Amy, Armstrong was. She said she thought she did.

About that time, the door off the kitchen opened, a guy came out, and Cliff called me in there. I went in there and closed the door behind me. I told Cliff I was looking for some go. He said he had some and started mixing me up a shot. As I was putting the needle in my arm, the door suddenly opened and I heard Cliff's wife saying, "No, don't." I looked back and saw that it was the guy who had just come out of the room, so I wasn't worried. I just kind of glanced back at him and went on with what I was doing. He stopped, turned around and went back into the kitchen. I could tell that this incident bothered Cliff a little; he didn't like to be disturbed when the door was closed, and everybody knew it. He said, "I'll be back in just a minute," and left the room to talk to the guy.

Cliff came back in and we finished our deal, then we went into the kitchen and sat at the table. Cliff was sitting to my right. The other guy was to my left, a little behind me. Cliffs wife was next to him, and the other girl was seated across from me. She started talking about Wyoming again, telling the guy to my left that I'd been there, too. After a few minutes, the guy asked for his drawing pad. The girl with him got it and handed it to him. He began drawing on it. She started to ask, "What are you going to draw?" but then said, "Never mind, I know what you're going to draw" and looked over in my direction. As he was drawing, I started talking to Cliff. After a couple of minutes, I noticed Cliff's eyes starting to water up and saw that he was getting nervous.

The other guy interrupted our conversation and started bragging about a fight he'd gotten into a couple of days earlier. He said he had jumped down some steps and had dove onto the guy he'd been fighting with. He started bragging about the damage he'd done. I said, "Normally, I have to be backed into a comer before I'll get into a fight, but just a few days ago I got into it with some guy." I told him I'd felt like shit afterwards because I knew the guy had only started the fight because someone had primed him all up for it. Whoever had primed him all up caused him to take a severe and unnecessary beating. It should have been a one or two-hit fight; he was finished after the first hit, but just wouldn't quit. It was like he didn't want to let whoever put him up to it down by losing, so he wouldn't quit. I started telling them about the fight with Rob. The girls had left the room and gone into the living room after giving the other guy the case that held his drawing supplies. After telling them about the fight, I asked Cliff if he knew who Mike, a.k.a. "Amy," Armstrong was. He said he wasn't sure. I said, "If you can, why don't you try and get a hold of him for me and let him know what happened and how the cops wanted to charge Rob with breaking and entering and assault." I said that I didn't intend to put up with any shit from either Rob or Amy over it. If they bothered Debbie in any way, I was going to go ahead and file charges. I knew that Rob didn't need more problems with the cops any more than Amy did. Since Amy had just gotten out of jail, he probably wouldn't want to do much, but I wanted him to hear the truth before I ran across him.

About that point in the conversation, the guy who was drawing and had been sitting to my left, kind of behind me, threw a knife across the table. It flew past me towards Cliff and landed on the table in front of him. I saw an expression of relief flash across Cliffs face. I thought, "Oh, shit, I've been sitting here with my back to this guy pretty much the whole time and now it turns out that he's Amy, Rob's brother!" Amy Was not going to take any chance at all of ending up in the shape Rob had been after our fight. I was so glad I hadn't started bragging about winning the fight with Rob. I thought of how foolish I was to have been sitting there with my back to him, especially after he had barged into that room when the door was closed. One word of bragging and I would have been in bad shape, for sure.

As the tension eased, I got a chance to say that I needed to get going. Cliff walked out with me. When we got out on the front porch, I noticed that the owner of the tan car that had been stalking me for months was sitting catty-cornered from us in his car, with his lights on. He was just sitting there, not moving. By the way he was sitting there and looking, I felt he was trying to figure out how in the hell I had managed to come out of that house in one piece. I had called a couple of hours before I arrived and let Cliff know I was going to drop by — apparently, I had walked right into a set up. I said to Cliff, "Looks like your buddy, Patton, isn't in a hurry." Cliff said, "I think he's a little upset with me." We stood there for about five minutes before the guy finally drove off.

I drove over to Debbie's and told her what had happened. She confirmed my suspicions by telling me that Amy's old lady had lived in Gillette, Wyoming, for a while and that Amy likes to draw. Debbie started getting upset with me for going over there in the first place. She could tell that I had done something, and she didn't like that. She reminded me that her daughter was only fourteen years old and said she wasn't going to take any chances of Mandy being around drugs at that age. Debbie had a good point. I couldn't argue with her because she was right on both counts. By this time, I knew that I didn't stand a chance alone. Debbie was acquainted with a lot of the people who had been following me. I felt that hanging around with Debbie would be my best chance at getting this mess over with and finding out what had started it in the first place. Besides, I felt that she truly did love me and I loved her, too.

I thought about the situation for a little bit, then told her that I didn't have any kind of a drug problem and I'd like a chance to prove it to her. I again mentioned the Super Show that was coming up in Atlanta, Georgia, and how I'd been planning to go to the show and then drive down to Orlando to visit my friend. I said, "Why don't you and Mandy ride down there with me? I'll be around you the whole time. Then you can be certain that I don't have any kind of drug problem because you'll know if I do any. I won't mess with any from now until we leave. It will be a fun trip." She thought it sounded good, and again agreed to go.

Debbie had been noticing that her phone had a lot of static in it; there was also an echo. The next day, she called the phone company and asked them to send someone out to check the lines. The cars were back, driving around and around the block. (Remember, this is a street that is only two blocks long and normally does not have many cars on it.) The phone repair man showed up, came over to the house and started to check the lines. He noticed the endlessly circling cars and began to get nervous. We told him, "Don't worry. They just want to be our friends, but don't know how to go about it." He started towards the phone connection by the street. He was trying to hook something up out there and trying to keep an eye on the cars at the same time. After a couple of minutes, he stopped what he was doing, came back up to us and said, "I'm gonna come back tomorrow to finish checking this and I'll talk to you then about what I find out." He hurried to his truck and drove off. He never came back and we never heard from him again. (Someone had left an Oldsmobile, similarly stripped, northwest of my shop. The only way I could tell it was an Oldsmobile was because they had left the steering wheel on it.) I knocked on a couple of doors to see if anyone knew, or would say anything, about where the kids might be. No one answered. Just then, a car pulled in. I went over to it, and asked the guy driving if he knew anything about the people who lived in that trailer and drove the car from Wyoming. He told me they'd gotten busted for manufacturing meth and were being held in the Jasper County jail in Carthage. I figured the bust was in retaliation to Angle's statement to me about that many hands all over you - yuck! If you want to know who it is, it's everybody." One thing that I did know for sure was that my friends from Wyoming had known nothing about manufacturing meth. They didn't even know what its ingredients were. Even if someone had told them how to make it, they had neither the money nor the means to acquire the equipment needed for a lab, much less get a hold of the ingredients. They hardly knew anyone in the area; they'd only been in Joplin a few months. They arrived with practically nothing and had no money. It seemed to me like every single time someone said they wanted to help me or told me they knew something about what was going on, they either vanished or ended up in jail within a couple of weeks.

I drove back to the building on Wall Street. Several cars kept driving around it. There were two tan-colored cars parked across the street in Humphrey Spring's parking lot. One of the drivers was a regular in the U.F.W. next door. The guy who drove the black pickup and the red jeep and hung out at the body shop next door lived right off of 41st and Indiana. I sat over there at my shop for a while. Then Debbie called, looking for me. I told her where I was. She said her friend, Jean Kennedy, was coming over. I said, "Why don't you all just come over here and we'll play some pool?" She agreed, and about thirty minutes later they showed up.

Jean noticed the cars right off. She said, "What in the world is going on? You've got somebody big pissed off at you." The cars were driving in circles around the building, nonstop. I said, "Don't worry about them. They just want to be friends and don't know how to go about meeting us." We played pool inside, while the cars continued to circle for hours. Debbie decided that she needed something out of the car. I said, "Let's go out and get it." Jean said, "Are you crazy? I wouldn't go out there with all of them driving around and around." Debbie said, "There's nothing to worry about. They're our friends." We went to the door. Jean said, "You guys are crazy," but she came to the door with us. I was parked right outside the door. There was another coat hanger on the door handle of my van. Debbie's car was parked on the side. We walked towards it, and two cars pulled up right beside Debbie's. One had three guys in it. The other had four guys in it. They just sat there looking at us. I started laughing and waved at them. They waved back. We got what we were after out of the car. The two cars took off as soon as we opened Debbie's car door, and we went back into the building. Jean kept telling us how crazy we were for going out there. After a few more hours, the traffic slowed down. Jean was definitely nervous, overly so, and ready to get the hell out of there. We took her back to her car. After that night, we didn't hear from her for six months; she never called or came over to visit. I guess one experience with "the traffic" was enough for her.

I got to where I'd go to Wal-Mart a lot of times when they were following me, hoping that Wal-Mart's security camera would capture them on film if they tried anything. It also seemed likely that a record would be kept of any credit card purchases they made at Wal-Mart, which could be used to track them if anyone listened to me and called the FBI like I'd been begging them to do.

We spent the next day or two preparing for our trip to Atlanta and Orlando. On the day of departure, we had about five different people call and ask what time we were going to leave. We told them we planned to leave around eight o'clock that night. When eight o'clock rolled around, we still had a lot of traffic driving around the neighborhood, so we decided to wait for a while before heading out. Mandy said that she was going to lay down for a little bit, and went to her room. Debbie and I decided to lie on the couch and watch TV. A couple of hours later, around ten or eleven o'clock, we got up to get started. Suddenly, the wind started blowing real hard. Debbie asked, "Is it getting ready to storm?" I said, "Either that, or maybe the ghosts of past victims are trying to warn us." I said, "Maybe it would be a good idea to wait a little bit and see what the weather is gonna do." We laid back down on the couch. Naturally, as soon as we laid down, the wind stopped. About an hour later, we started to get up to go, and the wind kicked up again. I said, "I think we should wait a little longer." Debbie quickly agreed. As soon as we returned to the couch, the wind quit. This exact same thing happened four or five more times throughout the night. Every time we started to get up, here came the wind; as soon as we laid back down, it quit.

Finally, around six a.m., we got up. This time, there wasn't a sudden gust of wind, so we decided to go ahead. We woke Mandy up, and headed out. As we pulled out of the driveway, a car that had been parked at the comer pulled around and started following us. It followed us over to Main Street, then south to the highway, then east on 1-44. By the time we'd gone fifteen miles, we had about five of them in back of us. Whenever we slowed down, they slowed down. When we sped up, they sped up. We were headed eastbound, and recognized several cars coming from the east as ones that had been following us over the last few months. I said, "They must be going to work. It looks like it's a good thing we didn't leave last night."

We stopped at Mt. Vernon to get gas and snacks. I started the pump, and went inside. When I came out, Debbie told me that Chris Nelson had just pulled around in front of the van; he'd taken off as soon as he realized Debbie had seen him. The other four cars were still there, waiting for me to get gas. We headed on down the highway, and they followed. We drove all the way to Podia, Kentucky, before stopping for a room. Mandy was writing down the tag numbers of the cars and descriptions of the people she thought were following us. We naturally stopped at a few Wal-Mart stores along the way.

In southern Tennessee, we noticed that we were being followed by several cars, so we decided to stop at a gas station in a small town. We headed onto the exit leading to the station. All of the cars followed us. They walked around the station, watching us. The cashier was nervous with so many people in the store. Out of the blue, Debbie turned around and said, "I want everyone in here to buy something." I told her, "Don't be trying to piss them off." I said, "I'm gonna go get us a room. I'm not driving any more tonight with that many of them following us." We drove a couple of blocks down, and rented a motel room. We were hungry, so we decided to go to Waffle House (there was one nearby). It was about two-thirty in the morning. We drove to Waffle House, and the cars followed. We went in, and they followed us inside. We ordered food. Most of them were just having coffee. When we'd entered the place, it was almost empty; now, five minutes later, there wasn't an available seat. People were waiting in line. The waitresses were on the phone calling people to come and help them out. A guy walked in, apparently a local. He seemed about half-drunk. He yelled out, "What the hell! I've lived here all my life and have never seen this place this crowded at this hour." He stood there for a minute, waiting for a seat, then said, "The hell with this, I'm going on down to the other restaurant. We hurriedly finished our meal, and left. When we returned to the motel room, I brought a couple of guns from the van into the room with me. I spent half the night lying awake, watching the door.

The next morning, we got up, drove to Atlanta, checked into a room, and headed to the Super show. We thought we were being followed. I must have been paying too much attention to the people who were following us and not enough attention to the road because I got lost a couple of times on the way over. After we left the Super show, we decided to visit Underground Atlanta. We again got lost trying to find it. There must have been half a dozen streets named Peachtree; we kept turning on the wrong ones. There was Peachtree Street, Peachtree Boulevard, Peachtree Avenue, Peachtree Lane, etc. Finally, a couple of the cars that had been following us pulled around in front of us and actually led the way to the Underground. They must have been monitoring our conversation because we'd been looking for the place for well over an hour and they'd been following us the whole time. As they passed us, we could see them shaking their heads and laughing, so we figured, "They must know where the Underground is." They obviously did, because they led us right to it. We hung around the Underground for a couple of hours, then decided to go back to the room. By the time we'd reached the motel, it was starting to get dark. I went out to the van to get something, and noticed a guy dressed like a security guard taking something out of his trunk. It looked like a police belt. There were people in several of the cars that were parked outside the motel, just sitting there. This seemed suspicious, so I turned on the cameras I'd attached to my van, and then went back into the room.

At about three o'clock in the morning, I woke up and realized that I'd better go back out and shut off the cameras or the van's battery might die by morning. Debbie and Mandy were sound asleep, so I tried to be real quiet leaving the room so as not to wake them. Once outside, I started towards my van and noticed a guy walking towards me kind of quickly. I hurried to the van, unlocked it and got in. The guy kept walking, heading towards the restaurant. I then noticed two more guys approaching the van. I climbed into the back of the van, where I had a gun. The two guys paused right beside my driver's door. It was clear that they weren't going anywhere. I left the cameras running, and just sat in the back of the van, waiting for them to leave. A vehicle that looked like it might belong to a pimp pulled through the lot and stopped to the left of my van, up by the doors. It idled there for a minute, then drove forward, past the front of my van where the cameras were. The two guys who'd been standing beside my driver's door stayed there another few minutes, then left.

A couple of minutes later, I decided to go ahead and chance it and head back to the room. I opened the van door, shut off the camera, and began making my way towards the motel. I hadn't gone ten steps when someone hollered at me, "Hey, what did you do this to this lady for?!" I looked over and recognized the motel's two security guards. They were standing over a lady who was bleeding from a bad head wound. I said, "I didn't do shit. I've been in that van and in my room only," and started picking up the pace towards our room. They hollered again, "Why did you beat this lady?" I ignored them, and continued walking. When I reached the room, the door was open and what looked like a quart of blood was splattered on the outside of the window. Debbie and Mandy were up. Debbie said, "What the hell's going on? I woke up and two security guards were standing in our room with some lady who was bleeding all over the place." I said, "I don't know. I just went out to shut the camera off in the van. There is blood all over the window outside and when I got out of the van there were two guys out there saying, 'Why did you do this to this lady?'"

About that time, the police pulled in: a big male cop and a lady cop. The security guards were telling them, "That guy in that room down there did it." I told Debbie, "Go ask that lady cop to come in here." Debbie went down to where they were standing, and I could hear her talking to the police officers. Debbie said, "I'd like to know what is going on. I just woke up and these two guys were standing in my room with this lady bleeding all over." One of the security guards asked Debbie, "Who was in your room?" "You and you," Debbie replied, pointing at him and the other guard. They both said, "We weren't in your room. We just found this lady here." I motioned for the lady officer to come to the room. She and Debbie walked back to where I was standing, and I said, "Last night, I realized that I'd left the cameras in my van running. I got up and left the motel room in order to go shut them off. The cameras will show you who did this and what happened."

About then, the other cop entered the room. The lady officer told him that I might have the incident on film because my van was equipped with cameras and they had been running. He said, "What are you doing with cameras on in your van?" I said, '"Cause I got a wife who goes around claiming I'm places that I'm not, and she has a jealous ex-husband." He said, "You mean to tell me that all of what happened last night is on film?" I said, "Yes, it should be, because the cameras were running. You want I go get the film?" He looked over at me and said, "Welcome to Atlanta, Georgia," then he and the other officer turned around and left. They did not ask to see the video. They didn't stick around to ask any more questions. As they started to get back in their patrol car, Debbie yelled out, "Hey, aren't you gonna call that lady an ambulance or take her to the hospital?" The police officers called an ambulance, and drove off. Debbie said that the whole back of the lady's head was knocked off. I went out to the van, got the TV. and tape, and brought it inside so we could watch it. The door of the motel was not visible on the tape, but we could see everything else: the guys standing by the van, people going towards our room, the car out of which the lady was taken. We took pictures of the motel room and the window with the blood all over it.

The next day, when no one had come to wash the blood off after a couple of calls to the office and two hours of waiting, Debbie called again and asked to speak to the manager. She explained to him what had happened and asked if he would send someone to clean up the blood. He said that there was no report of anything happening the previous night, but agreed to come over to our room. When he looked at all of the blood, he said, "We have cameras all over the lot." He told us he would examine their film and get back to us. He was surprised that there hadn't been a report filed because usually even minor incidents were reported to the management. A couple of hours later, he called our room and told Debbie it appeared that the lady had walked from a bar across the street into the parking lot; she had not been injured on the motel grounds. Debbie wanted to know, "Then how come there wasn't a trail of blood? The only blood, except for the blood near where the security guards were standing with the lady, was all over around our room and splattered on our window." He said, "Oh, no, she came from across the street." And that was the end of it, until I got back to Joplin and Neil said, "If I were you, I'd forget about that little incident in Atlanta." I had only gotten a glimpse of the lady, but somehow she had looked familiar. I'm still trying to figure out if I knew her from somewhere, but I have not been able to place her.

We left the motel, and headed on towards Florida to visit my friend in Orlando. The further south we got, the fewer cars we noticed following us. By the time we reached the Florida border, we seemed to have lost them, though we couldn't shake the feeling that we were still being pursued. During our stay in Orlando, we visited the beaches and Disney World. It wasn't until we were above Atlanta on our return trip that we were aware of being followed again. I had stopped at a spy shop in Florida and another in Georgia on our way back, where I'd purchased several items including a bug detector, a jammer, and a mini camera that could take pictures in almost complete darkness. As soon as I brought the bug detector into the van and turned it on, it lit up, indicating that the van was bugged. When I had bought the equipment, I'd asked the owner of the shop how to remove bugs from a vehicle and make sure that they were gone. He had told me, "There are so many places in a vehicle where a person could hide a bug that you'd basically have to disassemble it all the way down to the frame in order to get rid of them - and even then, you still couldn't be sure that you'd gotten all of them." After I confirmed that the van was indeed bugged, I thought about what he'd said and decided I would not even bother to look for them. Even if I went through the trouble of tracking all of the bugs down, they would just put more in. If they wanted my van bugged, it would be bugged regardless of any attempts on my part to prevent it. Today's electronics are extremely sophisticated; when Neil told me that they could hear a whisper from over half a mile away, I had no reason to doubt him. I decided I could not dwell on it.

As we drove back to Joplin, whenever we noticed someone following us, we would intentionally miss roads, get lost, or stop at a Wal-Mart. I could tell that it aggravated the hell of them. There was no way I was going to let them comer me in; it sure wouldn't be good if that happened. We stopped at a station in one town en route, and a guy followed us in. We could tell that he was completely exhausted. He was getting a cup of coffee. We were buying ice cream. Debbie picked something up from one of the shelves and said to me, "If you let me get this, I'll let you stop at every Wal-Mart from here to Joplin." You should have seen the look on that guy's face. If looks could kill...!

We finally reached Joplin and got some much needed rest. The next morning, I volunteered to drive Mandy to school. After dropping her off, I decided to drive on down Pearl Street and check the mail. I hadn't been getting much mail. I'd received several calls from people who'd attempted to send mail to me but it had been sent back to them. I'd been to the post office at least half a dozen times in the last six months to complain, but it hadn't done any good. A couple of times, I mailed myself letters, sending one to the post office, another to my building. Below the mail slot on the door of my building, the word "Mail" was printed quite distinctly. The address of the building was directly above the mail slot. Apparently, this wasn't clear enough for the mailman, though, because the mail I sent to my building was returned with "Unable to Deliver" stamped across the envelope. Who knows what happened to the letter I sent to myself in care of the post office. I believe Skip Walker was at least partly responsible for the problems I was experiencing with my mail. As I mentioned earlier, when I'd gone into the post office and asked him to give me my mail because I couldn't find the mailbox key, he'd refused on the grounds that he would have to check with Kathy first - even though the box was in my name and the mail it contained was addressed to me only.

Anyway, I never even made it to the post office that morning because as I was driving down Pearl, I spotted Kathy's car parked outside the courthouse on the comer of Sixth and Pearl. I decided to stop and see what she was doing there. I parked, went inside and found her sitting in the courtroom. I entered the courtroom and sat down beside her. I said, "What are you doing here?" She said, "We are going to have your ex exparte dropped." I said, "I don't think so." I looked over and saw Cary Selson, her attorney, seated at a table up near the judge's desk. Cary looked at me, then looked down and started to bang his head against the table. The judge glanced over at him because Cary's odd behavior was disturbing the court. Cary got up, and came towards us. He motioned for Kathy to follow him, and the two of them left the courtroom together. A few minutes later, they returned. Kathy sat down on a bench across the aisle from me. Cary went back over to the table where he'd been seated, and began nervously tapping his pen against the table. It was distracting. As they called the next case, the judge was looking at Cary like, "What's the matter with you?"

The lady involved in the case that had just been called up was standing there alone. After a while, she walked over to Cary and said, "Hey, aren't you my lawyer?"  He replied, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't notice you." Evidently, she was not the reason he was so nervous. I noticed that the guy against whom the lady was bringing charges was not present in the courtroom. He'd probably received as much notification as I had that there was a case pending against him. Cary started out by saying that the guy was on drugs, and implying that the guy's drug use was the likely explanation for his failure to appear in court that morning. Cary then went on to tell the court how the man had almost burned his mother's house down while he was on drugs. Listening to this, I got to thinking that it was a good thing I'd happened to notice Kathy's car in the courthouse parking lot; if I hadn't, Cary probably would have been making a similar speech about me.

When our turn came, and the judge called us up, he looked at me and said, "Now, you're here to squash an Exparta order?" I said, "No, I don't want to drop anything. People have been following me all over the place, I've been threatened, and all kinds of other stuff has been happening. I don't want to drop anything, if I have my way." The judge gave me a strange look and said, "Then what are you doing here?" I answered, "That's what I'd like to know." Cary said, "We are thinking about filing an Exparta of our own." The judge said, "You are to file nothing unless you include a copy of the Exparta he has already filed along with it. Do you understand? And you," he said, looking at me, "You need to decide what you want to do. I'm going to reschedule this for March ninth. I'll expect to see you then." We left the courtroom. I went to the clerk's office and found out why the judge had been looking at me strangely. The papers stated that I was the one who had petitioned the court to drop the Exparta. I drove back to Debbie's house and told her about what had happened. I then drove over to my house and discovered that Kathy had moved some other guy in! Apparently, the relationship with the doctor had not worked out. I'd been asking questions about him before I left for Florida, and she'd been telling me what a good guy he was and how I had better leave him out of it. Now, two weeks later, she was living with someone else, in the house that I had built from not much more than a gutted-out frame of a building that was about to be condemned. I had built the garage from the ground up, out of block; I'd even dug the foundation by hand, to save expenses. I noticed that it hadn't taken Kathy very long to pick up another boyfriend. I decided to enforce the Exparta I called the police, who referred me to the sheriffs department. The sheriffs department claimed that enforcing an Exparta was the police department's responsibility. I called the police back, and they told me they would send someone out. After a couple of hours went by and nobody had appeared, I gave up on the police.

I decided that it would be a good day for me to go take a drug test. I'd been thinking about what Cary, Kathy's attorney, had said about the guy who hadn't shown up in court. I hadn't done anything since before we left for Florida, so I knew the results of my test would be negative. I went to Occumed, a D.O.T. certified lab. Another reason I had for wanting to submit to a drug test was that I knew it would put Debbie's mind at ease. This would be the third or fourth test I'd taken over the past several months. The results of the previous tests had all been negative, too. I decided that even though I was suffering from back pain and carpal tunnel syndrome, it would be in my best interest to just suffer rather than medicate myself in any way - as events would soon prove, this was a wise decision. After taking the test, I went back to the house. Kathy and her live-in were at work. My key no longer fit the door; they obviously had changed the locks. I decided to change the locks again. While I was in the process of changing them, a police car pulled up. An officer named West got out of the car. I showed him the Exparta and he asked me, "Why doesn't the judge just tell this lady to get out? Who does he think he is?" I said, "I think he thinks he's a judge." The officer said, "This just isn't right. Let me look at that again." I told him I would appreciate it if he would go down to Kathy's workplace at Pillsbury and remind her that having an Exparta filed against you means 'don't come around,' not 'move your boyfriend in.' He said he would check into it.

The next day, Trish from upstairs called me and asked for a key to the house. I gave her one. The following day, the locks were changed again. Meanwhile, I had traffic all around me. I decided to drive up to Quincy for a couple of days. Debbie tried to talk me out of it, but I decided to go anyway. I started out late that evening. The traffic was all over me. I decided to pull into the Wat-Mart in Lebanon, Missouri. They followed me into the lot. I got out and hurried into the store, not realizing that I'd left my .357 Magnum lying in the driver's seat in plain view.

I hung around in the store for about forty-five minutes, then went to the checkout. There were two cops standing right inside the door, near the exit. They were watching me closely. I decided to visit the bathroom instead of proceeding directly to the exit. The restrooms were located in the middle section at the front of the store. I made a phone call to a friend. I said that I was in Lebanon, and if he didn't hear back from me within fifteen minutes, there was a problem. I then called Neil. He asked me what was going on. I explained that I was kind of stuck in the Wal-Mart in Lebanon and had company waiting for me outside, the blue kind. He said to call him back in about five minutes. I noticed that the cops had retreated outside the store, but they hadn't left. I stayed in the bathroom for five minutes or so, but felt that to linger there any longer would draw too much suspicion. I didn't have anything on me, so I decided to go ahead and chance it. I walked on out the door. I didn't see any sign of the cops, so I went over towards my van. When I opened the van door, I saw that I'd left the gun in the front seat instead of moving it before I got out. I was unloading it when Neil called. He said, "Where are you now?" I said, "Inside the van." He asked me, "Did you notice that the cops backed off?" I said, "Yes. If you had anything to do with it, I appreciate it." He said, "You're welcome." I headed back on the highway. The phone rang again. I told them I was on my way, not to worry about it.

The traffic was on me immediately, so instead of going through Camiden the way I usually did, I went east on 1-44. They followed. I went up an exit, and started going back west on 1-44, but I couldn't shake them for nothing. I pulled up to the truck stop at Cuba, intending to take Highway 19 north. They followed me into the truck stop. I got gas. Trying to make conversation, I asked the lady at the counter, "Does this road go up towards Quincy?" Another lady, who spoke with a British accent, stepped forward and said, "No, no, you don't want to go through Hannibal, it's no good. Go the other route." I asked what the best route was, and picked up a map. She said, "Go the Illinois route." I said, "Where?" and threw the map up on the counter. She could see St. Louis on it and started circling her finger around it. I sensed that she could not read the map. She said, "There's another route. If you've been there before, you should know it." A guy was standing beside us. Another guy asked him what he was doing, and he said, "I'm just listening in on this conversation." I said, "I think I know the way," then left to go to the bathroom. As I was heading towards the door, the lady called out, "Be careful around St. Louis."

I left the store and drove on, heading east on 1-44. When I got around twenty-five miles from St. Louis, my followers started crowding me. I hit the brakes, cut across the median and started back the other way, going west. Six or so cars came with me; they crossed and went the other way, too. I kept going back and forth on the highway and up and down different roads, trying to shake them. I'd get right up on an exit, then whip onto it at the last minute before they had a chance to follow. I ended up on several side roads and highways, working my way northeast.

It took me over twelve hours to get to Quincy. I took a road on the southwest side of the city. Just as I entered Quincy, several cars tried to cut me off. I was driving and turning in all directions. I felt like a mouse running through a maze. I finally reached my brother Butch's house. As I got out of the van and began walking inside, I noticed several cars circling the neighborhood. Pat was acting kind of nervous and so was her mother. Butch wasn't home. I noticed a paper lying on their table, on the top of which was written: "poor room." Several names were written below. Their grandson's photo was also on the table. I used their phone to call my Uncle Glen. He wasn't home; Pat said he was at his daughter Stormy's house. I said I was going to go over there. Pat said, "No, don't. Wait, and I'll follow you." I said, "I know where it is," and started out the door. Pat ran out behind me and said, "Don't go by yourself." The cars were riding around. I got into my van, and drove off towards Stormy's, which was only six blocks away. Pat was on my bumper. When we reached Stormy's, we learned that we'd just missed Glen. Stormy stepped out and said he'd gone back to his house. I drove over there. When I arrived, Glen asked me, "Did Pat or her mother go somewhere when you left Butch's?" I said, "Yes, they followed me over to Stormy's. Then, when I left to come over here, Pat told Stormy that she and her mother were going 'there,' wherever 'there' is." Glen told me, "You need to look at the papers lying around their house - not newspapers, little advertisements and such." The phone rang. Gator, Glen's son, answered it. He said, "I've got to go over there." I went out to my van, and took out a gun and some shells and gave them to Glen. I told him, "Sometimes doing the opposite of what someone tells you is the best thing to do." I said I was going over to my brother Bruce's house. Gator and Glen left at the same time. I was followed all the way to Bruce's. Theresa, his wife, and one of their kids were there. I asked where Bruce was. She told me he was at work. I asked her where their other kid was. Theresa said he was at someone's house. When Bruce came home, Theresa said, "I guess I'd better head over there." I said I needed to get going, too. They were insisting that I stay there and not leave. I said, "I've got to get back to Joplin." I took a couple more guns from the van and asked them, "Can I leave these here?" They agreed that I could.

I was followed from the moment I pulled out of the drive. At first I was driving north, but when the cars followed, I shifted direction and went back south towards Quincy. They turned around and continued to follow. I took the first opportunity that presented itself to get on 1-336 and headed in the direction of some land I had around Pleasant Hill and Pitsfield, Illinois. I was followed the entire way, right up to the moment when I turned off the highway and onto the gravel road. As I turned down the me over to Stormy's. Then, when I left to come over here, Pat told Stormy that she and her mother were going 'there,' wherever 'there' is." Glen told me, "You need to look at the papers lying around their house - not newspapers, little advertisements and such." The phone rang. Gator, Glen's son, answered it. He said, "I've got to go over there." I went out to my van, and took out a gun and some shells and gave them to Glen. I told him, "Sometimes doing the opposite of what someone tells you is the best thing to do." I said I was going over to my brother Bruce's house. Gator and Glen left at the same time. I was followed all the way to Bruce's. Theresa, his wife, and one of their kids were there. I asked where Bruce was. She told me he was at work. I asked her where their other kid was. Theresa said he was at someone's house. When Bruce came home, Theresa said, "I guess I'd better head over there." I said I needed to get going, too. They were insisting that I stay there and not leave. I said, "I've got to get back to Joplin." I took a couple more guns from the van and asked them, "Can I leave these here?" They agreed that I could.

I was followed from the moment I pulled out of the drive. At first I was driving north, but when the cars followed, I shifted direction and went back south towards Quincy. They turned around and continued to follow. I took the first opportunity that presented itself to get on 1-336 and headed in the direction of some land I had around Pleasant Hill and Pitsfield, Illinois. I was followed the entire way, right up to the moment when I turned off the highway and onto the gravel road. As I turned down the me over to Stormy's. Then, when I left to come over here, Pat told Stormy that she and her mother were going 'there,' wherever 'there' is." Glen told me, "You need to look at the papers lying around their house - not newspapers, little advertisements and such." The phone rang. Gator, Glen's son, answered it. He said, "I've got to go over there." I went out to my van, and took out a gun and some shells and gave them to Glen. I told him, "Sometimes doing the opposite of what someone tells you is the best thing to do." I said I was going over to my brother Bruce's house. Gator and Glen left at the same time. I was followed all the way to Bruce's. Theresa, his wife, and one of their kids were there. I asked where Bruce was. She told me he was at work. I asked her where their other kid was. Theresa said he was at someone's house. When Bruce came home, Theresa said, "I guess I'd better head over there." I said I needed to get going, too. They were insisting that I stay there and not leave. I said, "I've got to get back to Joplin." I took a couple more guns from the van and asked them, "Can I leave these here?" They agreed that I could.

I was followed from the moment I pulled out of the drive. At first I was driving north, but when the cars followed, I shifted direction and went back south towards Quincy. They turned around and continued to follow. I took the first opportunity that presented itself to get on 1-336 and headed in the direction of some land I had around Pleasant Hill and Pitsfield, Illinois. I was followed the entire way, right up to the moment when I turned off the highway and onto the gravel road. As I turned down the stay in line - if you don't, you won't get very far before being stopped by a cop. A lot of people I know refer to the St. Charles section as "Mob ville" and try to avoid it at all costs. There are no drive-up phones in that part of town. All of the phones are walkup only and are located outside of stores. I was sure the people who were following me were worried that my cell phone might be monitored if I used it in the St. Charles area, and their concerns were valid.

I pulled off the highway, and drove right down into that neighborhood. I got out of my van and called Butch's house in Quincy. I said, "I know who was behind this," and told him I was going to see to it that they did something to make it right. After hanging up with Butch, I called my Uncle Glen. Finally, I called Neil again. We talked for a little bit. He got me calmed down by telling me that everything was going to be fine, there was not going to be anything to worry about; it was close, but everything was going to be fine. I called Butch's house again, and told Pat I was heading back up to Quincy. I got gas, and rode around a little. The cars following me backed off for a while. By now, I was exhausted. I could hardly hold my eyes open and almost got into an accident. I knew I couldn't go much further. I started looking for a place to pull over. I pulled the van behind a station and lay down in the back of the van. Two cars stopped near me, but I was too tired to worry much. I quickly fell asleep.

I woke up the next day and started back towards Quincy. When I got up around Troy, I decided to call Butch again before driving all of the way up there. I realized that I could be heading into a trap. I talked to Butch and he didn't sound nervous. I next called Bruce. Theresa answered. She sounded relaxed. I called Butch back, and told him I had decided to go back to Joplin instead. I did not have much trouble with the people following me until I hit Camiden, where they got on me again. By the time I reached Springfield, I'd picked up a few more. One of the drivers looked like Chris Nelson. He briefly pulled up beside me, then fell back behind. When I turned off on an exit, at least six vehicles followed me. Instead of continuing down the road, I took the exit for 1-44 east, then instead of proceeding on to the highway, I remained in the exit lane. They followed. I drove around the clover leaf several times without getting on the highway. They kept following me around and around. I got on the interstate, drove to the next exit, and did the same thing. I drove up and down the exits at least half a dozen times. Each time, at least half a dozen cars followed me as I went around and around. Finally, I gave it up and headed on towards Joplin. They continued to follow. I drove to Debbie's, and said, "What a trip!"

Later, I drove out to Neil's. He asked, "How was the trip?" I said, "Interesting." He said, "Have you figured out what's going on, yet?" I said, "Looks like major drugs, white slavery, and a possible range war." He said, "Ding ding ding - right on all three counts." I had noticed an aluminum baseball bat by his door that looked like it had blood stains on it. It was badly bent. I told him, "That's probably not a good spot to be leaving that bat." He agreed, then asked if I'd been reading the Joplin Globe newspaper through and through. I said, "I think you ought to get a hold of somebody and tell them they better do something to make things right. I've got stuff written down and hidden all over the place, and if something isn't done to make things right real soon, then somebody is going to find it. They don't want that to happen. So what if they kill me? They'll just be trading me for about a hundred of their own. They way I see it is that the worst they can do to me is make my back quit hurting. I know who a lot of them are. I know where they live and where they work. I have everything written down, and I have videos - like the one of me going around and around the ramps on 1-44 by Springfield. Besides, they really think they can erase that mess they left on the lane leading to my property?" He said, "Right as you may be, they don't seem to care." I said, "Do me a favor and make sure they hear what I just told you and let me know their answer." I also got on to him about Casey and Angie from Wyoming. Neil said, "I'll tell them and they probably should listen, but the problem is that they just don't care." I kept a few feet from him the whole time we were talking and made sure my gun was handy.

I left, and went back to Debbie's. Later we drove over to Chris Nelson's house. He was out in his garage, so we talked to Misty for a minute first. Debbie said, "I saw Chris is Mount Vemon" on such and such date (the day we left to go to the Super show in Atlanta. Misty said, "You probably did. He was there." We went out to the garage. Chris was in there and had his lab going. Debbie asked, "Aren't you worried about having a lab right here in the middle of town like this?" Chris said he wasn't worried about it, started talking about how he was "untouchable." He removed a Seven-Up can from the icebox and took it apart. It had quite a bit of meth in it. I didn't want to end up in the shape I had been in St. Louis county, i.e. completely exhausted, so I got a little off him to take with me and did a little more with him in his garage. Debbie got pissed off cause I had done some. Interestingly, Chris denied being in Mt. Vermon the morning we'd left for the Super show

After a while, we left and went back to Debbie's. Debbie was pissed - mostly, I think, because of Chris' comment that he was "untouchable." She picked up the phone and called the police. About thirty or forty minutes later, a cop showed up. Debbie told him we had just left Chris Nelson's house. She said, "He has a meth lab in his garage and he is cooking as we speak." There's a Seven-Up can in his icebox full of dope." She gave him the address: 1402 Moffett. The cop took the report and said he would look into it. Afterwards, Debbie asked me, "Are you mad at me?" I said, "You did what you felt was right. After all, I think they were planning on killing us (or worse) the evening that we were getting ready to go to the Super show. If it hadn't been for that strange wind that night, there's no telling what would have happened. After that night, I can't be mad at you for doing what you felt was right."

The next day, Chris Nelson called. Instead of hearing about a bust, I found myself hearing Chris saying angrily, "You better get your old lady straightened out. If she thinks she's gonna be turning me in, you need to remind her that she's got a daughter." Traffic was all over the outside of Debbie's house that day. I started talking to Debbie about Stacey Dodd. I told her that he ran around with a lot of them and probably knew something about what was going on. Stacey was in jail and the cops weren't going to let him go until he paid the fines levied against him. Debbie agreed that perhaps I should go ahead and bail him out.

I went down to the station and said that I wanted to pay Stacey's fines, which amounted to around one thousand dollars. While they were processing him, a cop took the drug dog over to my van and led him around it, checking it out. Of course, the dogs didn't find anything; I wasn't fool enough to take any drugs down there with me. When Stacey was released, I asked him if he knew anything about why they were on me. He denied knowing anything. The next day, he wanted me to take him out to Tanya Jacobs' place to pick up some dope. I drove him out there. Tonya said it was gonna be a couple of hours. I told Tonya something about what had been going on, and she said, "Joplin sticks together." I said I had to get going. Stacey said he would just wait out there and catch up with me later.

Late that night, Stacey called me and asked me to meet him over on the 3400 block of Moffett. I drove over there. As I approached the garage of the house, I could hear voices from inside the garage. Stacey was talking to someone. I heard him say, "Someone's got to do something. They've got his whole family. I don't know what to do. I don't know who to go to. You've got to do something. Somebody has to." I walked on into the garage. Stacey introduced me to the guy with whom he'd been speaking, an instructor at MSSC College. The instructor guy started acting like he was interested in some rocks Stacey had found. He said he would check them out and get back with him. The guy said he was in a hurry and I got to talking to Stacey and noticed several keys in a cup on the work bench. I started going through them and noticed some GM keys. I said, "I can't find the keys to my silver van. I wonder if one of these might fit. Do you care if I take a couple and try?" Stacey said, "Those are Loumen's keys. You would have to check with him." I said, "I will bring them back." I took a couple of keys out to the van. The first key opened the door of the van I was driving. The next one I tried fit my ignition. I went back to the garage and said, "The first key I tried fit my brown van." Then I took all of the keys that were lying there, put them in the styrofoam cup, and said, "I'm going to take these home and see if they fit anything else of mine." Stacey said, "You can't take them. Those are Loumen's keys." I said, "Tell Loumen that I've got his keys and I'll bring them back." I took the keys over to the shop building and tried them out. The keys fit all five of my vehicles. I checked the door; there was a key that fit. He had keys to the front and back doors of my shop, keys to my house, keys to my garage and keys to the little padlocks I had. I went back over to the garage on Moffett. Stacey was there. I told him that the keys had fit nearly everything I owned and said that I wanted to talk to Loumen. Stacey said he wasn't around. Loumen had never come to my shop alone. When he came in, he was usually with Chris Nelson. He wouldn't have had a chance to get my keys. I figured that either Stacey or Chris Nelson had stolen my keys and copied them.

Over the last couple of months, I'd been noticing several things missing. I started looking around Loumen's garage to see if I could spot anything that belonged to me. Stacey said, "You can't be going through stuff here. It's not mine, it's Loumen's." I said, "If you would prefer, I could call the police and have them going through this stuff," as I looked in a trash bag. It had Coleman fuel cans, several empty sudophedren containers and other meth-making ingredients. Then I noticed that lying right in the middle of all this was some girl's car registration and her insurance card. She lived on the 2100 block of Virginia. I wondered, "Is this their next victim? This bag looks like a setup to me." I took out the lady's registration and insurance card. I said, "Are they planning on setting this lady up next? How would they like for me to tell her what I just found?" Stacey swore he knew nothing about any of it. He said he just comes over once in a while and hangs out. I said, "You tell Loumen to get a hold of me."

I went back to Debbie's, and then she and I drove down to the shop of Wall Street and took a good look around. I had kept most of my expensive stuff in boxes with locks on them, which I stored either in a locked room or above the ceiling in the attic. The stuff was almost all gone. They had replaced it with trashy books and pieces of metal -1 guess so that when I lifted the boxes I would feel some weight in them and not be suspicious. I took a good look through my things, trying to determine what had been taken. Debbie and I called the police. We had to call three times to get someone to come out. After a couple of hours, the same officer who had come by the house while I was changing the locks drove up. His name was West. He took the report. I told him that between fifteen thousand to thirty thousand dollars worth of stuff had disappeared. I listed the items I was sure were missing and told him that I would have to go through everything else to find out was else had been taken. I showed him the keys from the garage on the 3400 block of Moffett Street on the west side in the middle of the block and told him what color the garage was. I told him that Stacey said they were Loumen's. However, I mentioned that Stacey Dodd and Chris Nelson at 1402 Moffett were more likely suspects because they'd had access to my shop. I had left one or both of them alone in the shop on several occasions because they used to help me all of the time. The officer said he would check it out.

We left there and drove over to Chris Nelson's house. I told him about the keys and trash bags and all the missing stuff of mine. I told him that I filed a police report and told the cops who all had access to the building. I told him that he was probably going to be questioned about it so he might ought to keep his lab put up for a few days cause he was definitely gonna get questioned over it. Chris talked like he thought Loumen was the one behind it. I explained that only he or Stacey would have had the chance to get the keys because Louman wasn't there alone (as far as I knew); Chris and Stacey, on the other hand, had both borrowed my vehicles at times. I didn't think Chris would thieve from me. I mostly wanted my stuff back. I probably shouldn't have warned him that they were going to question him. But it didn't matter anyway, as it turned out; it's been over a year and the cops in Joplin haven't talked to a single one of them about thousands of dollars worth of my property that was stolen.

I was still thinking about the conversation I had overheard between Stacey and the instructor at the college, so I decided to drive back up to Quincy, Illinois, to make sure everything was all right up there. I decided that this time I would take Debbie, so that hopefully there wouldn't be so many after me. They usually didn't try to run me off the road when I had her along. We started out 1-44. After about thirty miles, I noticed the van that looked identical to mine sitting on the shoulder parked at an angle (they apparently parked it that way to make sure that I would notice it). The guy that owned it was Dave or (Chad?) Lamb. He hung out around an auto repair shop at 43rd and Main. I noticed that the guy in it looked a lot like me, which made me wonder if it was really Kathy staying at my house. If thing were going on like I was hearing, then you'd think that she would be so traumatized she would be a complete mess - unless she was going along with them, of course.

We drove on and took the turn going through Camiden. We had four or five cars following us. When we got around Camiden, there were several around us. They would tap their lights or brake lights to make sure I would notice. They had tried to cut us off a couple of times. Several of them had gotten in front of us and we had a few behind us as well. I figured that they were going to try to set a trap up for us. Debbie said, "What are we gonna do?" I said, "I've got a plan." I stopped at a station, then we pulled around on a big lot in back of it. Debbie asked, "What are you gonna do?" I said, "Did you see the movie ‘Spies Like Us’ with Chevy Chase?" She said, "Yes." I said, "Remember what they did when they thought the world was ending because they set off the missiles?" After an hour or two, we headed on down the road. When we got to the land in Illinois where my trailer was, we started messing around inside the van. I could have sworn I saw two guys about a hundred and fifty feet away from the van coming towards us wearing night vision. I jumped up, started the van, turned it around, and went in the direction I thought they were coming from. I drove down the lane looking for them. At the end of the lane, there were a couple of deer running. This could have been what I had seen down by the trailer; it was almost pitch black out. But I don't think it was.

Either way, I was not going to chance it. I decided to go on and drive on up to Quincy. We drove on up to Quincy and everybody was acting halfway normal. We drove out to Bruce's and Butch came over. Butch said that he was worried I might be out there on drugs because of all the shit that Kathy had been telling him. I told him that once in a while I did a little - socially, or when I wanted to stay up - but I didn't have any kind of a problem. I volunteered to piss in a cup for them if they wanted, then I went out to the van to get some of the cassette tapes that I had recorded off of the phone. While digging for them, I found a syringe that someone had put in my van. I took the tapes in and played the one in which Kathy was telling Debbie not to go over to the shop to see me cause I was going to get busted cause the police were watching because someone she knew had turned me in. Then I put in the tape of her and her friend. Nancy from Neosho, was planning on going to a party with some guys off Connecticut Street. Kathy said she wanted to make sure I was gonna be out of town. This was October of 1999. Nancy told Kathy that she had to ditch her husband, too. The hood had blown up on her car and she got her husband to fix it for her. To thank him, I guess she was going to go fuck around on him. The next call Kathy got was from her friend April. She was setting up a Halloween party to sneak off to. After hearing the tapes, Butch said, "Well, I'm convinced that you do not have near the drug problem I thought you might have." I said, "Why don't you come down and stay with us for a couple of days at Debbie's house? You can see that there is no people running in and out. Debbie's daughter lives here with us. Debbie owns her own house and does not do drugs or have the house full of drugs." Butch agreed he would come down and stay with us for a few days.

CHAPTER TWELVE

We drove back to Joplin. After we got back to Joplin, Debbie decided that she wanted to rent a motel room. We had cars following us all over. She went in and rented us a room. I believe it was a Day's Inn. I noticed they put us way in the back and several of the cars that had been following us were parked around there. We went up to the room. Debbie said she knew the lady that worked there and she had to give a different name because they wouldn't rent any of the rooms to anyone with a Joplin driver's license cause they were worried about people using the rooms for making meth. This raised a flag in the back of my mind.

We went up to the room. It was a bigger than average room and only had one bed in it, although it looked like it was made for two. The room was pretty much empty except for the one bed. It had room in there for about thirty people, I pictured. "So, this is how it works," I said. "I'm gonna go get the suitcases." I went to the van, then pulled over to the gas station nearby. I took two forty-four ounce glasses out of the van and filled them with gasoline, then went back up to the room. I was gonna take a shower. I figured if I came out and there were a dozen people in there waiting on me, instead of them seeing the look on my face that they wanted to see I would see the looks on their faces as we all burned together. There were at least a dozen cars that had been following me parked around the motel.

I got to thinking about it and backed out. Instead, I decided to go pick up something to eat. I pulled out of the lot and the radio said, "Oh, lucky you." I started down 32nd Street and pulled into a station. I had about three cars following me. Instead of going back to the room, I got on the highway and started towards Oklahoma. Within twenty miles, I had seven or eight cars on me. I drove to Tulsa and rented a no-smoking room. I bought a carton of cigarettes. I stayed all night in the room. The next day, after I'd gotten ready to go, I threw cigarettes all over the room along with three or four lighters, then left a note that said: "Call the FBI." I figured they were surely following me by now; if they hadn't been following me, they would be by now and they wouldn't have to follow very long before they would figure out what was going on.

I started back towards Joplin. It didn't take them very long to get on me again. A little way past the middle of the turnpike, I saw the tow truck driver again. He and another guy had thrown out three blankets, like they were covering bodies. They had their hats off and were bowing over the blankets, holding their hats on their chests. I drove over to my house and told Kathy I was going to go get Buddy (my son) and we were both going to leave town. I said, "I suggest you come with us." I told her to call several people and tell them that if we didn't make it, to call the FBI. I said, "I'm going over to Buddy's now."

I went over to my son's house. They looked real worried. I used his phone to call Berry Dobbs, a friend (so I thought). I said, "Berry, listen to me. I'm taking Buddy and Mindy and we are heading out of town to Quincy. If I don't make it, call the FBI." Berry said, "Glen, wait, listen to me. I need to tell you something. I had a calf- you know, a baby calf— and it was stuck in a pond the other day. So, I got a rope and made a lasso and threw it around. Instead of getting its front leg and neck both in the lasso, I just had the rope around its neck. Are you listening to me?" I said, "I hear you." He said, "Well, instead of just trying to get another try, I just went ahead and gave it a good yank. You understand what I'm trying to tell you. You know what happened, don't you? You understand what I'm trying to tell you, don't you?" I told him to go to hell. I told him to go to hell again, then I hung up.

I told Buddy that I wanted him to ride up to Quincy with me and if nothing was going on, then he could come back. He said that Mindy's sister was coming up and he had to wait for her. He said, "It will be about two hours before she gets here. Then we could go." I drove back over to Kathy's and told her we were leaving in about two hours, adding, "I suggest you come with me." She said she wasn't going to. I said, "It's your choice, then." I told her about the conversation I had with Berry but didn't tell her who said it. She called Buddy up and told him she was gonna call the doctor. I told her I'd like to take three cars with three different drivers so the chances of trouble would be less. I told her that I was gonna go get some gas, then I was going back to Buddy's to wait for them to get ready. I suggested that she go over there and wait, too.

As I left there, cars started swarming around me. I drove to the truck stop on 1-44 and Highway 43 to get gas. They were still all around me. There must have been twenty cars on me by then. I got gas and started back. They had the 44 eastbound ramp blocked with their

vehicles. I crossed over the overpass and they blocked 43 North in front of me. The only way I could go was on the westbound 1-44 ramp, so I got on the interstate. I started going towards Tulsa. They had construction going on on the turnpike and had the lanes closed down to one going each way for quite a little ways after I first got on the turnpike. I noticed that the traffic behind me started backing way off. There was a truck about one hundred and fifty yards in front of me. The nearest traffic behind me was probably at least a hundred yards  I got suspicious and decided to catch up with the truck in front of me. I floored it. Just as I was catching up with the truck, I could see a pickup almost stopped in the westbound lane. A guy in the back of the pickup took a scoop shovel full of rocks and threw them in front of me. When I noticed them, I had gotten as close as I could to the back of the truck, so the rocks just brushed down the side of my van. I dialed 911 on my cell phone and reported it. When I got past the construction, here they all came. A pickup tried to run me off the road. When I pulled in to pay the toll, I had more traffic on me than I'd had since the start of this abomination. As I paid the toll, I handed the lady at the tollbooth a note that said: "Call the FBI."

I drove on to the end of the turnpike and took the first exit. There was a big bingo casino there. The date was approximately March the sixth. They were still flocking all around me. I started turning the camera towards the ones that were beside me. I pulled into where the bingo place's parking lot was. It was a huge parking lot. They followed me through there. I drove on out of there and back up to the main road. There was a gas station to my right, so I pulled in there and parked in front of the store. Just as I was getting out of the van to go in, a cop pulled in behind me. He pulled his gun out and told me to get back into the van and to drive over to the empty lot to the south. I said, "Is there a reason we can't talk here?" He said, "Get back in your van and pull over there on that lot now." I said, "I've got a bad back, so I'm kind of slow."

A guy was starting into the station after getting gas. I looked over at him and said, "Sir, could you call me an ambulance?" He kind of smiled and shrugged his shoulders. The cop looked at him and said, "Do you know this guy?" He said, "No, sir." I was slowly climbing into the van. I reached up and pulled the ignition key out and hid it around the floor mat. I said, "Oh, shit, I just broke the key off in the ignition. Looks like this van isn't going anywhere." The cop told me to turn around, then he searched me. He told me not to move. He looked into the van and saw the cameras on it and the TV with the VCR playing. He said, "How do you turn off these cameras?" I said, "I can't shut them all off. One of them is wireless and my buddy's got the control a couple hundred yards from us." He said, "Where is he at?" I said, "I don't think it's in my best interest to tell you that right now."

Another cop pulled in and he told me to get in his car. I got in. He had two bloodhounds in the back of the car. These weren't no police dogs; these dogs were vicious hunting or tracking dogs. He asked me what I was doing there. I told him that I was on my way to Elk City, but my brother was supposed to meet me around the gas station and he was going to follow me back to Elk City. I felt that if I hadn't told him someone else was close by and someone else knew that I was on the way, then the ones following me would have gotten the show they were after: me, in an empty lot, being eaten alive by a couple of bloodhounds.

The other officer said he was gonna go check out my van while I stayed with the other cop. He climbed into my van, then stepped out and said, "Are all of these cameras off?" I said, "All but the one that's remote and I can't turn it off; someone else has control of it." He climbed back into the van, searching it. I was pretty worried because there were several loaded guns in there. There were two twelve-gauge riot guns loaded to the max, 3" magnums or buckshot with two and a half ounce shotpowder, at least nine in each gun; two 30.06 rifles; a .338 magnum rifle; and at least two pistols. The officer climbed out of the van and walked over to me. I was inside of the police car. He said, "How come you've got shells strung out all over the inside of your vehicle?" I said, "They were all in a box and my brother was taking some of my guns with him to Illinois. Apparently, instead of just sorting through them, he just threw out the ones that didn't fit the guns he took." He said, "You go over there and get back in your vehicle and get out of this county." I said, "I'm about to die of thirst. Can I buy a drink first?" He said, "No, get out of this county and don't stop for nothing."

I climbed into the van and quickly got the ignition key and started the van. Then I looked at the guns between the seats and saw what the officer meant by, "Why are all these shells strung out all over?" He had unloaded my guns and the shells were all over the place from him jacking the shells out of the magazines. I backed the van out, pulled out, and got back on 1-44. I drove to the next exit. I was dying of thirst. I pulled off the exit and here came the red lights. The cop had followed me. I stopped and stepped out of the van. He stepped out of his car. He said, "What part of 'get out of here' didn't you understand? Now get back in there and get on down the road!" I said, "Yes, sir," and jumped back in the van and got back on the highway, this time watching real close to see if he would follow.

I drove down one or two exits further, then took another exit and drove south about ten or twelve blocks and stopped and bought a Coke. I sat there and started drinking it. It didn't take the ones that had followed me from Joplin very long to find me. They started swarming around me again. I drove down the road about half a mile and parked in a restaurant parking lot. There was an apartment house across the street. I sat there for several hours watching them watching me. Once in a while, one of them would pull up and park beside me and just sit.

I was getting tired and hungry, so I decided to go into the restaurant. I walked in and looked around. It was a very expensive restaurant. Most of the people in there were wearing high-dollar suits. I'd been up for several hours now and hadn't had a shower for a couple of days. I'm sure I had to be looking pretty rough. I couldn't believe the way they treated me in there. I was expecting to get thrown out, but instead they treated me like a king. It was almost like they knew what I was going through. By the time I got through eating, I was really tired - definitely too tired to go anywhere, so I went out to my van and went to sleep.

When I woke up, it was March the 6th. I pulled out and drove down to a gas station to get some coffee. I took a good look around to see if they were still around. I was surprised that I only noticed a couple of them. I go on 1-44 East and started back towards Joplin. After I had been on the turnpike for a while, I saw the tow truck driver again. He was parked at an angle so I would be sure to notice. As I passed him, I again saw that he had a couple of blankets laid out like they were covering bodies. He had two or three people standing beside him. They were all bowing like they were standing over dead bodies. The ones with hats were holding their hats against their chests.

As I got a little further down the road, Debbie called me on my cell phone wanting to know where I was. I told her that I was heading back towards Joplin. She asked me if I would meet her at the Petro truck stop. It sounded a little suspicious to me, so I decided to pass, although I didn't let her know that. She just didn't sound quite right. So, I decided to pass and drove on to Springfield. Then my brother Butch called and said he was gonna be in Springfield at the Pro Bass shop and asked me if I could meet him down there at five o'clock. I told him that I might see him down there, but said that if I wasn't there by five-thirty then don't wait.

I got to Springfield and stopped to get something to eat. I got to thinking about Butch asking me to meet him at the Pro Bass shop and decided that since he had said he was going to Joplin afterwards, I would just wait and talk to him tomorrow. I drove around for a little while, then decided to pull around in the back of a motel and park and sleep in the van. After a few hours, Debbie called me and asked me where I was. I told her where I was and that I was going to spend the night there. She said she was going to drive up there to Springfield if I would wait. I told her that I would. Then I went back to sleep. When I woke up, Debbie was banging on the side of my van. She told me that she though Kathy was gonna have divorce papers served on me because some guy had stopped by her house looking for me. She also told me that Butch was going to be either at her house or at Kathy's by the time we got back in Joplin.

We sat around there for a couple more hours, then decided to drive on back to Joplin. Debbie had her car, so I decided to follow her in my van. As we started to pull into Joplin, I got to thinking that if Kathy was going to have divorce papers served on me then it might be a good idea to talk to a lawyer first. I pulled into the Quick Trip on 43rd and Main and decided to walk on over to Debbie's. I walked about one and a half blocks to 42nd and Virginia and Debbie pulled up. She said that there wasn't anyone parked around her house, so I got in with her and rode the other block and a half to her house with her. She was right. There wasn't anyone parked around there.

My phone rang. It was Clint Hunt, asking me if I would meet him at the 900 block of North Maiden Lane. He gave me directions. I told him I would see him over there in about twenty minutes. He told me to wait there if no one was there. I told Debbie that I was going to take my other van and drive over to my house and talk to Butch and see if he wanted to come over to Debbie's. I got in my silver van and drove over to my house on Pennsylvania. I pulled into the alley and parked under the carport. I got out of the van and went over to the garage and opened the door. My brother Butch came out of the back door of the house. He said, "It's you that they want. We have to make sure you're safe." I said, "I'm doing just fine," and walked over to my van. As I put my hand on the van door, I heard someone behind me in the alley say, "Freeze." I turned around and there was a cop standing there, with his gun drawn.

He came over to me, took out a pair of handcuffs, handcuffed me and then searched me. Then he put me in the back of the police car. He said, "Can I search your van?" I said, "It looks like you're gonna do what you want, no matter what I say. You've already searched me without my permission or a reason." He then went over to my van and started searching it. I knew he wasn't going to find anything illegal on me or in the van. I made sure of that before I got into it. Checking my vehicles before I drove them was getting to be a habit by now. He climbed out of my van. By now, there were three or four more cops there. I was sitting inside the back seat of the cop car listening to the scanner. I heard it say, "I'm at the 900 block of North Maiden Lane and it looks like we've got a full-blown meth lab here." Suddenly, the thought of the cops harassing me where I was became a good feeling because apparently if they weren't, I would have ended up in the middle of the setup that was waiting for me over on North Maiden Lane. The scanner said, "There doesn't appear to be anyone around."

I started thinking about 4th and Highland, when Chris Alexander asked me if I would help move dint Hunt's stuff while he wasn't home. Eight cops showed up in the front yard. A fire truck parked one and a half blocks away with no sirens said that they came there because they received a 911 fire call to our location saying that there was an explosion and chemical smells in the air. They could see the house was empty. Chris and his brother, John, had just finished loading the last of dint's furniture on the trailer hooked to my van. The cops searched and handcuffed all of us, then sat us down on the side of the trailer. One of the cops, who was looking through the front window of the house, said, "Someone's running out the back." Not a single cop, including the one standing on the front porch, made an effort to pursue anyone. I was really surprised that there were eight cops in the front of the house, but not one at the back. Only afterwards did they decide to go inside the house. They claimed that they found three haggles with meth in them on the floor, but they didn't show them to anybody.

They took us to jail and said we were being charged for possession of the meth. I volunteered to take a drug test, but they wouldn't give me one. Then I said, "Maybe you ought to ask whoever ran out the front door about it." They said, "No one ran out the back." I reminded them that everyone there heard it, including the cops. The officer questioning me said that he caught him before he got away. When I asked him, "Then where is he at?" he decided that I'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and told me I could go. That happened about a year ago, around the time that Chris Alexander was complaining about people following him.

Anyway, back to the present. The cop gets into the front of the car that I was sitting in. He looked over at my silver van and said, "Do you know that your tags are expired?" I said, "Yes, I've been meaning to do something about that, but I'm usually driving another van." He said, "Where is it at?" I said, "I think you people ought to have more important things to worry about than me and my van." He said, "Are you saying that there's something dangerous in your van?" I said, "It looks to me like everything here is one-sided against me. I don't have anything else to say. I think I'll just wait and see what happens. Talk's over."

He got out and talked to the other cops. They got back in the car with me and drove me to the Steven’s Unit in Joplin. It's a psychiatric unit for mental or drugged-out psychos. When we got there, they took me into a room and a Dr. Poolin came in. He introduced himself, then asked me if I was homicidal. I said, "Not at the minute." He said, "Are you suicidal?" I said, "No, not at this moment." He said, "Would you, or are you considering, harming yourself in any way?" I said, "What's the address here?" He said, "934 East Thirty-fourth." I said, "Can I wait a couple of hours before I answer that question?" He asked me if I had seen people or things that weren't really there - maybe people following you? I knew better than to try and tell him what was really going on; that's what everyone was counting on me to do. One word about what was going on and it would have been just what they wanted to hear.

I knew that when someone has been doing a lot of drugs and has been up at least three to five days straight, he tends to hallucinate and think things or imagine things because his body needs rest. However, I hadn't let myself get in that shape for over six months and knew better than to let myself get that far because it was probably what they wanted. Besides that, with all of the shit going on, it might have caused me to panic and go off. I read a book written by a local guy who claimed that he used to stay up for weeks and even months. Based on my experiences with meth and meth addicts, I say he's a liar. I've never heard of any addict staying up for months, as he claimed in his book, although I agree with what he wrote about the tendency to hallucinate after a while without sleep.

I think the people at the Steven’s Unit were really surprised when they checked my urine and found out that there weren't any drugs in it (not even traces of pain pills, for which I had prescriptions). Dr. Poolin said, "I know that you're abusing pain medication and you're having trouble coping with the automobile accident you were in in 1971. So, I'll tell you what you need to do. You need to volunteer to do at least thirty days in our drug treatment program." I said, "The wreck was over thirty years ago and there's not gonna be any drugs showing up in my system and I'm not gonna volunteer for anything." He said, "If you don't volunteer to do thirty days in here, then I'm gonna give you six months in Eldorado. I've done it before and I'll do it again." I said, "You can go screw yourself, pal. I'm not signing anything."

He then had someone take me to a room. A couple of hours later, someone came in and said that I had visitors. I went out into the hall. There was Butch, Bruce and Kathy. Butch said that Kathy had given him all the pills that I had been taking and that they had them now. I said, "Maybe you better check the dates on the bottles. A half-full bottle of pills with a date on them over six months old doesn't sound like someone abusing pills to me. If I was taking them, you wouldn't have found them at the house I haven't stayed in for over six months." When I called them and asked them to call the FBI, I expected them to either call or show up, but not before making sure someone else would call if they didn't contact them within a short time. At least that's what I would have done for one of my brothers if they had called me. The last thing I would have done would be to contact their ex-wife and her new boyfriend for advice. Something very strange was definitely going on.

I've known my brothers for a long time and this was definitely not the average response when someone in the family called for help. They normally would be there in a flash to help. That's why I didn't call them for help. I told them that if I didn't call them back, then to call the FBI. I figured that the FBI would only have to watch over me for a day or so before they figured out what was happening. It was definitely more than a few people could handle on their own. Here were Butch and Bruce, whom I hadn't seen more than three times in the last year, each time for less than an hour or two, arranging to have me put in the Steven’s Unit. I don't know what kind of help they thought they were giving me by getting together with Kathy and collaborating to have me thrown in a psychiatric ward for crazed-out nuts. They could have at least taken a couple of hours to talk with me or have stayed with me for a couple of days. The last time I'd talked to Bruce, a couple of weeks before, he'd said he was gonna come down and stay with me at Debbie's for about a week. This definitely wasn't their normal reaction when they were asked for help. Either someone had threatened their kids or something else was going on.

It's hard to believe that Kathy could have convinced them of that much without them knowing that we had been split up for over six months and that, as I'd been told by several people, they were pimping her off. After what I had seen in Quincy and the hills the last time I was up there, I knew that there was definitely a very large, well-organized group behind everything that had been going on. I would think that if they were forcing Kathy to do stuff, then she would have been so traumatized that it would have shown.

Either she was in on it with them or they'd had someone take her place and pretend to be her; I couldn't get near enough to her to be able to figure out which it was. This much was obvious: if I tried to say something without having any proof, I would just be giving them what they wanted. If what I said was not taken seriously and checked out, I knew they would have me locked away. I was wondering how many people were up at Elderado in the mental hospital who didn't belong there, especially after hearing Dr. Poolin saying, "If you don't volunteer to do thirty days, then I'm gonna give you six months in Elderado. I've done it before and I'll do it again." I'm sure he wasn't making that part up.

I also knew that I apparently was gonna miss my March 9th court date to find out why the Exparta that I had filed against Kathy was being ignored and to find out who had falsified my name on court papers saying that I was the one who had petitioned the court for that February court date. I decided that it was time for me to leave, so I grabbed the arm of the person nearest to me, who happened to be Kathy. I had about six people jump on me. They were all slinging and kicking around, but, being on the bottom of the stack, I wasn't doing any hitting or being hit. When it was over, a couple of them claimed they got hurt. At least one of them went to the emergency room with a concussion, but it wasn't from me because I didn't get a chance to hit any of them, being on the bottom of the stack.

But I guess they gave me credit for it anyway because they drugged me and put me in a room. I noticed that they had a wall unit air conditioner in the room. I went over and started to jam it around a little and it started to give, a little at a time. I finally got it pried away from the wall. There was a vent through the brick wall about six inches by ten inches. I knew it would be an easy way out. All I had to do was make it a little bigger. I looked around to see what I had to work with, then formed a quick plan. I used my fingernail to take a metal plug cover off the wall. This gave me a screwdriver. The bathroom door handle was hooked to a heavy steel plate. I used the switch cover and another piece of metal to take out the screws. This would give me a good pick and chisel. In about twenty minutes, I would be out of there. Just then, however, the drugs started hitting me real hard. I left one screw in the door handle and scooted the air conditioner back against the wall; it wouldn't go all of the way back because of the vent filter, so I took it out and stuffed it under the bed. I thought, "Let me get about thirty minutes rest and I'll go ahead and finish chiseling out that hole." I laid down and close my eyes and ended up falling asleep.

When I woke up, they were saying that breakfast was ready. I went up to eat. It turned out to be one of the days that a cleaning lady showed up on the unit. While we were all eating, I saw her start down the hall with her mop. I realized that I should have taken that filter with me out of the room and hidden it somewhere instead of leaving it under my bed. It didn't take her very long to come scooting back up the hall. They called me into a room and questioned me about it. I told them that I didn't know what they were talking about. If something was done in there, I said, then someone must have broken into my room while I was sleeping and fucked things up. How would I know what happened? - you people are keeping me so drugged up, I can't do anything but sleep. The doctor gave me a pen and asked me again to give them permission to keep me. I got him all distracted, reversing all his questions back and asking him about his personal life. Then, I took his pen and put it behind my ear. He got up to talk to another staff member and I stole some physician orders. He turned around and decided he was getting nowhere, so told me I could leave. I went back into the group room and sat around watching how the place worked. The doctor would come in and call patients into the room to evaluate them one by one. Then, when he left, he stopped at the basket up by the front desk and dropped off his physician orders in the basket. I found the easiest way to get out of there-just write orders that said I could leave. But, I noticed the weather outside was getting bad in a hurry, and the food was good. Besides, l got to thinking that I wasn't in a real hurry to go deal with them pieces of shit out there that were committing their time to destroying my life. I thought I would get rested up for a few days.

They said that they were going to have a group meeting and asked me to attend. I said, "Sure, why not?" They had all the patients sit around a table and said, "Let's begin by having everyone introduce yourselves and state why you are here." He began at the front of the table. They would introduce themselves, then say stuff like, "I'm in here because I'm a drug addict and I've got nothing else to lose, so I tried to kill myself." Then, a lady said she was there because her father kept raping her and she tried to kill herself. Another, James, 21 years old, got drunk and wrecked his car trying to hurt himself, then decided psycho was better than jail. The next guy said, "I'm gonna kill my dad. I've already done seven years in the joint and it don't matter if they give me life or whatever. I'm gonna kill him."

Then they got to me. They asked my name. I said, "I'm Glen." They said, "And why are you in here?" I thought for a couple seconds, then I answered, "Because my tags on my van expired." We all had a good laugh.

When the group was over, I noticed a newspaper and picked it up. On the front page was a big ad about a bomb scare at a school. Evidently, that stupid cop trying to make something out of nothing, and the joke I had made when asked if I would harm myself in any way and I said, "Can I wait a couple of hours before I answer that question?" It went a long way. The cops had blocked off the roads from Indiana to Jackson Street and from 32 to the highway. I was told that they claimed to have found my van across the street from a school two blocks from where I had left it. At least they admitted that there was no bomb in it, but the police did steal several of the videos I'd been recording, several of my guns, (which were all unloaded and zipped up in gun cases) and several other things, all of which were legal to have.

I was very surprised that they had admitted there was nothing illegal in the van, that I never actually said that there was a bomb, and that I had not actually threatened anyone. I heard that they let people go by the exit to smoke, so I told them that I wanted to smoke. They gave me a couple cigarettes. I hadn't smoked in over twenty years, and soon, within the next month, I would be smoking almost three packs a day. I had seen what Debbie meant when she said that every time someone comes to the Steven’s unit, the only things they leave with is at least one more bad habit then they came in with, and at least two more dope connections than they had before.

It didn't take them long to approach me-her opinion was definitely with mine-the place was a joke. Most of the people were there because they had used up all of their connections, or because they wanted a check. The residents are entitled to a monthly check if they happen to visit the Steven’s unit three times within a twelvemonth period.

I spotted a phone in the hall, and I knew my calling card number, so I decided to put a few ads in the paper. I put several ads in the "purely personal" section, and in other places. I even put one under yard sales, advertising a block sale on the 1700 block of Pennsylvania. A couple of days later, there was a big bust in Southeast Kansas. They said that there were over 28 arrests at different locations. They called it "Operation Renegade" I thought that this meant it was finally going to be over, because of the name "Operation Renegade" and the fact that some of the ones that they picked up were some of the people who had been following me. I had heard them call me "Renegade" several times over the C.B. and on my scanner while they were chasing me-Especially when I was going through Springfield and Camden.

When I went out to the smoke room, I often noticed that there was usually a couple of them in the parking lot. They would tap their brake lights several times to make sure that I noticed them. Some guy in there said, "You're all right. I think I'll hang out with you." I said, "You might not want to do that-sometimes strange things happen around me." He said, "Like what?" I said, "You see that coat hanger hanging there for me to notice?" he said that he hadn't noticed it. I said, "Watch this."

I flipped the light switch on and off a couple of times, and three different cars started flashing their brake lights so I would notice them. A car drove past us, stopped, then backed up for about half a block. Debbie pulled up, jumped out of her car, flashed me her tits, jumped back in her car and drove off. He looked over at me and said, "Wow, man! Weird things do happen around you!"

The next day, a new guy showed up. He was about six feet five, and weight about 260 pounds. He had long hair, and looked about 50 years old. He said that he was there because he kept hearing voices telling him to do things. I thought it was strange that no one asked him what the voices were telling him to do.

Walking down the hall, I noticed that they were giving James another entry physical. As I got there, I heard him say, "Okay, Dave, you're all finished." (Dave was the new guy's name). James said, "Dave? My name is James!" The doctor said, "I'm sorry, I thought you were Dave, the new guy. You both look so much alike that I get you confused." James was 21 years old with a Boy Scout haircut, about five feet three inches tall, and he weighed about 110 pounds.

I said, "What's going on?" James said, "He just gave me the new guy Dave's physical. He said we look so much alike that he thought I was Dave."

I said, "No shit!". Then, I made sure that everyone in the place knew it.

That night, I took a couple of pencils and broke them up into little pieces so that they would be like marbles, and spread them all around my room before I went to sleep. They had doors with another door inside of the magnetic door at the front of the room. I took toothpicks and broke them off in the locks and slept with a pen and a couple of pencils just in case.

The next day, a lawyer showed up. He introduced himself to me as Mr. Dobbs. He said that I had a court date coming up, and that he was going to represent me. I told him that I already had an attorney, and that his name was Phil Glades on Anetta Oaks. He needed to contact one of them for me. He said that the court was going to be in Newton County, and that he was going to represent me on this one.

I got a hold of Debbie, and asked her to contact Phil Glades on Anetta for me. I also wanted to ask her if if she, Randy Thomas and Trish would be witnesses for me, and to ask if she would get a hold of a few more people to witness for me. I asked her to bring copies of all the drug tests that I had taken in the last year. Then, I wrote down over thirty questions that I wanted to be asked at the trial.

At the Stephen’s unit, they usually only had a couple of people working on staff from time to time. Once, when they only had two people working, I started walking up and down the halls. Then, I got an idea. I started knocking on the patients' doors. They said, "What's going on?" I said, "Come on, we're gonna walk. Don't you want some exercise?"

After I got ten or eleven of them walking, the staff started to get very nervous. There were speakers lined up and down the halls so they could hear what we were saying. I said, "Do you all want to leave?" They said, "How can we leave? We're locked in!" I said, "There's ten of us, and two of them. If we wanted to leave, all we would have to do would be to ask them to flip the button and unlock the door. What do you think they would do? Just put yourselves in their position."

They all quickly agreed. As we approached the front desk, the two girls on staff took off and locked themselves in the back room. If you want to hear something hard to do, I had to do some serious talking to talk them out out of leaving. I kept reminding them of how shitty the weather was outside, and how good the food was inside. They finally started to agree. After I convinced them that we could leave anytime, 1 didn't tell them that pulling a fire alarm would also unlock the doors.

A day or so later, I found a couple of those jobs. I got hitched up with a trucking job, so the guy that wanted to kill his dad decided that he didn't mean what he had said.

Two guys showed up from the Newton County Sheriff's department to take me to court. They shackled my hands and feet, then hooked the chains together. One of them said, "I need to search him."

A staff member said, "We already did." The first man said, "I like to be thorough." He put his hand in one of my pockets and pulled out a flat piece of metal. I said, "screw driver." He put his hand in my other pocket and pulled out a Unshaped piece of metal and a handful of broken up pencils. I said, "Crescent wrench and marbles." He then stuck his hands in my shirt pocket and pulled out about twenty packets of pepper. I said, "For the dogs." They tightened up all the chains on me, then they put me in their car and took me to the court house in Neosho(?)

I saw Debbie, Trish, Cindy and a couple more witnesses for me sitting in the hall. That gave me some confidence, because they all had experience around real drug abusers and worked around them because of their jobs.

They took me into a closed room and started the hearing. They wouldn't let any of my witnesses in to speak on my behalf. I gave my lawyer, Mr. Dobbs the list of questions I wanted him to ask. He wouldn't ask a single question. I started telling him to ask the questions, and the judge sentenced me to thirty days' solitude at New Direction drug abuse center, plus another year.

They took me out of the courtroom, then hauled me to New Directions, a drug abuse center. They put me in a room with windows on two sides. The lights were never turned off, and cameras were on me at all times. I asked to use the phone, but they refused. I asked to smoke, they refused. I asked to see a doctor, and again, they refused. They told me that I was going to be in there for thirty days, and then I had to serve a year. I asked to use the bathroom, and they hit a buzzer which unlocked the door and allowed me to go into a locked hall, which had a door to the bathroom in it. When I went back to the room, I started checking out the other door that was in my room. The lady working there said, "Forget it. You couldn't get in there if you wanted to, and besides that, if you did, it's only a closet with extra beds."

They brought me dinner and I kept the styrofoam plate it came on. I took the plate and cut it into a couple of J's. I asked if I could use the shower. They buzzed the door. As I went out, I dropped the J's over the electronic locks. The lady on duty said, "Paper won't work on them."

I took a shower and took the shower curtain. I figured I could use it for some clothes if I managed to get out. I figured since rain was in the forecast, the next night I could make look like I was wearing a rain coat. I walked back to the room and pushed the door open without her buzzing the lock. I said, "They're not paper" They started telling me to remove the things from the door lock. I suggested that they come and remove them. After about 20 minutes, three guys came and took them off the locks. The next time they brought a meal, I kept the plates and the aluminum wrapper from the juice.

I asked to see a doctor again. The lady at the desk refused. I laid down and told her that 1 was going to put a spell on her. I told her that I was going to wish my pain away, and it was going to go her direction, so, if within the next month she or someone in her family had an accident and hurt their left side, she should remember this moment.

About thirty minutes later, I got up and started to move around. She said, "I thought you were hurt and needed a doctor." I said, "The pain is gone-1 told you I was going to wish it on you. If you don't believe me, watch me make it rain." I was figuring on taking a shower and telling her it rained in there because it was sunny outside. I took the piece of the paper plate spit on it, and stuck it in front of each camera. The woman started telling me to remove it. I said, "Oh! Thanks for letting me know that these are the only cameras you all got in here! If you want the paper removed, why don't you come in and take it off yourself?"

I used my thumbnail to take a switch plate off the wall. It was a connection box. I noticed it was starting to cloud up outside. I couldn't believe it. Within thirty minutes of the time that I told her I was going to make it rain, it was pouring outside. What a coincidence! (But I didn't tell her that). I said, "Hey! What do you think of the rain?" She said, "Oh! Did you do that?" I said, "What do you think? You want to see me make the lights go out?" She said, "Can you?" I said, "Yeah. Would you be mad at me?" She said, "No. I'd like to see that." I said, "It will probably take me a few minutes."

I was going to take the wires out of the junction(?) box and short them out to trip the circuit. I was just getting ready to pull the wires out when the city tornado sirens went off. Again, I couldn't believe the luck and timing I said, "Oh shit, honey I think I might have overdone it a little! What do you think now? That you're talking to the devil himself and the only safe place for you to be right now is probably in here with me? What do you say you come in and join me?"

About thirty minutes later they said that I had visitors and they buzzed the door lock to release it. It was my helpful brothers Butch and Bruce. They said, "What did you do to that lady at the desk? She's up there crying, saying that you put a spell on her!" I said, "It's kind of a long strange story. They suggested that I stay in there, take it easy, and do the time peacefully.

After they left, I got to thinking about the lady at the desk. Though I had never seen her, only talking to her through the speakers, she had sounded like she was an all right person, just trying to do her job. I said, "Hey-are you still out there?" She said, "Yes, I'm here." I started to kid around and joke with her, then I promised that I would remove the spell from her. I could almost picture the relief on her face, because I could sure tell it from her voice. That night, I decided that I had waited around long enough, so around three o'clock A.M. I took the switch plate and used it to pry the hinges off the closet door. Inside the closet were several beds. I took out some of the mattresses and covered the outside windows. Then, I decided to use the door, which weighed about a hundred pounds, to ram the windows. They were three windows thick. I picked up the door and rammed it into the windows. It sounded like a firecracker going off when it hit. The outside window flew open, the one in the middle broke, but the first one just gave a little and sprang back. It must have been made of that stuff, and it wasn't held tight around the edges. I hit it three or four more times, it just wouldn't break. I knew the cops or someone would be coming soon because of the noise. Each time I hit the window, it sounded like a firecracker was going off. The door was too heavy to keep using for hitting the window, so I took it and used it to barricade the entrance to my room. I set it on its edge, and put one end against the door lock, the other end in the corner of the room. Next, I put my mattress back up against the windows so that no one could see in. A couple minutes later I could hear the cops outside. They were talking to the lady who worked there. I heard them say, "Lady, there is really not much we can do-he's already in a mental facility. The best we could do is take him from one mental facility to another one." She answered, "I don't care where you take him! Just get him the hell out of here!" I pulled the matress back and waved at them, then put the matress back up. They kept asking me if I would like to talk to them, so I pulled the matress back again. One of the cops looked like one of the people who had been stalking me for months. The one who drove an older red pick-up and lived on Moffett Street. I said, "You want to talk? Bring me either a state patrol officer or an FBI agent and I'll be glad to talk." He asked, "Why can't you talk to us?" I said, "I'm locked inside a drug abuse center with no drugs in my system. I've taken several drug tests in the last year, all of which came up negative. I've had Joplin Police stalking me for months. I've even been stopped three times within an hour and a half, and I don't trust no one on the Joplin Police Department. You want me to talk to someone, you bring me either a state patrol officer or an FBI agent, and I would be glad to talk."

The cops walked to the side and talked a little, came back and said,"That ain't gonna happen. You're not getting no state patrol." I said, "Then I guess the talk's over." and put the matress back against the window. They called the fire department and they came inside the building and took the little window out from the top of the door. They quickly realized that they weren't going to be able to remove the door without my help. They asked me to move it. I just laid there on the bed and told them that if they wanted me to move the door, they were going to have to bring a state patrolman or an FBI agent to me. They said, "That's not going to happen, but we're coming in there." The cop kept putting his head through the window mounting, and obviously wanted to beat my ass bad. He said, "Move the door. ° I said, "Let's see...I move the door, you come in here and beat on me. I think I'll pass."

I could tell he was steaming, so I reached up and pulled the paper off the cameras and pointed them out to him. I guess the fire department rigged up some kind of hydraulic device, because next thing, the walls, door and ceiling started crashing in, and here came the Joplin cop. I was still laying on the bed. He jumped on me, turned me over, and drove his knee into my back. I guess I shouldn't have let him know I had a bad back. It was his first target. It had been over a year since my injury, and my arms were still going numb constantly. He handcuffed my hands and feet together, then put me on a cart and started wheeling me out.

They stopped when they got me in the hall. One of the fire fighters said,"Sir, I didn't have anything to do with roughhousing you. Look around-there's eight of us here. I wasn't one of them."

I said, "Sir, could you do me a favor and call the FBI for me when you get a chance?" He said, "I "ve got the whole thing on film and I will call for you first thing in the morning, after I get some sleep."

They hauled me back over to the Stephens unit. They shot me up with more drugs, then took the cuffs off. One of the doctors there seemed allright. He asked me if I wanted to smoke a cigarette. I said I did. We walked to the smoking area and he asked me what had happened. I told him how they had locked me in a secluded room, denying me everything from cigarettes to a phone to a doctor. I said they wouldn't even let me use the bathroom. "It's been over 12 hours since the last time they let me take a piss," I said, "and if you don't mind, I sure could use a bathroom."

He acted pissed off about it. He said, "That's bullshit." and said that there was a reason for them to have had me in the detox isolation, especially after I'd already been at the Stephens unit. He said he would check in on it.

The drugs were hitting me bad by now. I told him, "I think if I don't get to a room quickly you're going to have to carry me." He helped me to a room. The next day, all of the patients were glad to see me back. I started asking them to call the FBI for me when they got out. The staff kept drugging me so bad that I could barely keep my eyes open. Two days later, the doctor came in and said that if I would agree to leave the state, they would let me go and forget about everything that had happened . It didn't take me long to say, "Hey, my bags are as good as packed."

Debbie called me. I told her what they said, and asked her to check out what they were saying. She called back and told me to get ready-she was coming to get me.

She came and got me, and they let me leave. We drove to her house. The next day we were getting ready to go to Illinois. I decided to use the phone first. I called the department of civil rights and the department of human rights in Jefferson City, Mo. and told them how Dr. Poulin had told me that if I didn't volunteer to do 30 days he was going to give me six months, and how he said, "I've done it before and I'll do it again." and about what else had happened. We went ahead and drove to Illinois.

I asked Butch what the hell was going on, and his answer was, "You don't want to know." After two days, I said, "The hell with them." and went back to Joplin. I told Debbie I was going to go to Jefferson City and talk to a US marshal! and a US Attorney, because when I read about Operation Renegade, I felt that was someone I could trust. I had called Wichita Kansas where the attorney General was who was responsible for the Operation Renegade bust. He said that anything in Missouri would have to go through the Missouri Attorney General. We drove to Jefferson City and got a room. The next morning, we started towards the capitol building. I noticed on the side of the highway, the red car with the white stripes down the middle of it. The one that had been following me for the last four months on the shoulder with a tow sticker on it. I told Debbie, "That's the car that belongs to the guy who lives on forty-four or forty-five and Pennsylvania in Joplin. It looks like they might have followed us up here. I'm going to drive around a little first."

We drove around a little, then parked a few blocks from the capitol building. We stopped at a federal building and asked if there was a US marshal! there. They had us go through metal detectors and let us go up to their office. We went in, and talked to a guy. He said he had to be in court real quick. I told him I might have information about a major drug operation and possibly a white slavery operation. He said that they only worked with escaped felons, and that we needed to talk to the attorney general's office.

We went another half block down to State Attorney General Jay Nixon's office. They kept giving us the runaround and wouldn't let us talk to anyone. Finally, they said they would have him on the phone in their office. We waited about thirty minutes and finally someone called. I told them that we might have information for them. They took our names and said it wasn't really anything that their office did, and that we should go talk to the US Marshall's office. We went to three or four more places there. Each place said it was the other one we should talk to. Each time, we told them that we had just been there, and they had sent us here. We spent all day being sent from one place to another and back with noone interested enough to even take five minutes to talk to us. Debbie said, "At first, I was against Timothy McVeigh for blowing up the federal building in Oklahoma City, but after today I can understand how someone could get upset enough to blow this whole place up."

I have to admit that I agreed with her. Everybody there would try to say that everything was someone else's job and just keep sending us back and forth without

any of them taking so much as five minutes of their time to talk to us. We gave up, and decided to go to Kansas City, Missouri. We got a motel and tried to call some federal agencies on the phone, but we were getting the same run-around.

We decided to give up, because we figured the only thing we were liable to get out of this mission was killed for trying to file a report. I felt we had already pushed our luck by just driving to Jefferson City. I never dreamed that all a person gets is the run-around when they try to report something. I started thinking about Neil saying "The drugs are never going to go away-we've got people everywhere-all the way up to the White House."

By now, I truly believed him. Especially after what Debbie and I had just been through. I didn't know if they were just too scared to investigate when you say the 'organized' part of it, or just didn't care because they didn't want to get involved. Maybe they had already had experiences like Ron Dunce, the Newton County Sherriff. Debbie craimed that somebody took his daughter out once and raped her real bad.

Anyway, the rest of March wasn't too bad. They only got on me bad a few times. I guess they were still pretty shocked over Operation Renegade in Southeast Kansas, and were probably a little worried about whether or not anyone had an investigation going on. Debbie told me that either the human rights or civil rights people came down and questioned Dr. Poulin about telling people what would happen if they didn't volunteer to do thirty days. She said he refused to answer them, and instead, quit his job on the spot. He was the medical director over the Stephens unit. She said that he didn't give a notice or anything-he just quit on the spot. I went back to the court house in Joplin and decided to file another exparte against Kathy. The Judge signed it and they served papers on her. I went over to the house on Pennsylvania after Kathy went to work a few days after I knew she had been served. I went to change the locks. the police showed up while I was changing the locks. I had Debbie with me. I showed them the court order. They didn't like it at all. I asked them if they would go out to her work and inform her that she and her boyfriend needed to find someplace else to stay. The next morning, Trish came by and asked if she could have a key. I gave her one. That night, Kathy was back in the house with her boyfriend and the locks were changed again. I called the police several times that week. I used my cell phone so that there would be a record of the calls. Several times they said that it wasn't their job, or that I should go over there and wait for them. We went over there and waited and waited, but they never showed up. I saw a few people I used to work with. They would hardly speak to me because of the supposed bomb threat that was plastered all over the TV news and in the newspaper.

We had a court date to go to over the exparte. When I showed up, a guy came up to me and served me divorce papers. We went into the court room and Kathy and Gary Selson were in there. They had got a different judge. They said that the divorce judge was going to be handling it because she had filed for a divorce. The judge didn't mention the exparte. He started telling me that I needed a lawyer for my divorce. I told him that I had a lawyer, Anita from Glades office and she was in the courtroom. She got up, and the judge rescheduled the hearing. Anita asked the exparte, since it was supposed to be an exparte hearing. He said that we would have to reschedule. About a week or so later, around the eighth of April, I called Kathy and asked her if it would bother her if I came over and got my tools out of the garage. I noticed that they had been steadily disappearing. She said that would be fine.

I talked to my brother Butch on the phone and told him I was going to be bringing them up there. He called Kathy to double check and make sure she didn't have a problem with it. She O.K'd it with him, too. I waited for her to go to work to make sure that there wouldn't be any problems. I drove over there with my van and backed my trailer up to the garage. I had been loading stuff for about fifteen minutes when suddenly, eight cops showed up with their guns drawn, handcuffed me and took me to the front of the house, while several others stayed in back going through my stuff, and taking several items, including several more unloaded guns that were in cases out of my garage and van. They asked me if I had any weapons on me. I said, "Yeah. There's a 38 caliber pistol in my belt line. It's not against the law to have a loaded gun on my own property, is it?" He told me that if he had seen it, he would have shot me on the spot. He reached to pull it out and noticed that I was wearing a bullet proof vest. He said, "What's this? You've got no business with a bullet proof vest!" I said, "You just said you would have shot me if I gave you a chance. Besides that, what are you doing here? I'm the one who has an exparte against her, and there's nothing against me!

He said, "We've been told that she has one against you." I said, "Mine's on record. You people served it to her. Check your records, or let me go get the papers to show you I"

Then Kathy pulled up. She said she was going to get an exparte against me, but there was one in effect against her. Someone had called her from work. The cops carted me off to jail, but not before the newspaper and TV crews showed up to plaster me all over the news again. I heard the cops telling her I was going to be gone a long time. She went back to work, while the cops were searching through my garage and stuff. They didn't even bother to close the garage door, or close up my van or trailer. Between them and the neighborhood, I lost several thousand more dollars worth of stuff before Debbie finally went and got my van. They got me to the jail, and I asked them what they were charging me with. They said that I was on a twenty hour probable cause warrant, and the prosecuting attorney was going to decide what to charge me with within twenty hours. The phone was off in my cell most of the time. After about fifteen hours, it was finally working. I dialled out and got a hold of Debbie.  I asked her if they went ahead and tried to charge me with something at twenty hours to get a hold of someone from the TV news, or the newspaper, and have them speak with me. I made sure that I said it loud enough that the they could hear it. She said that she would. About three hours later, someone came to my cell and told me to go with them. I followed them up to the docking room. They handed me my clothes told me to get dressed, and said that I could leave. I called Debbie to come and get me. I went to her house for a bit, then I decided to go to Illinois for a few days.

About four days later I drove back to Joplin. Debbie said that she had company three days after I left. It was someone trying to deliver an exparte order against me. She said that she told him he was a little late, and that I had already served twenty hours three days ago. He said, "That's strange, because the judge just signed this yesterday." She said that Kathy told her she heard one of the cops say that he wanted to have a picture of me in every squad car. When they arrested me, Debbie and I decided to go over to the building on Wall and clean up around it. We were there about thirty minutes when two cop cars pulled up. I was on my private property. One pulled out his gun, while the other searched me. then he said, "How come you haven't left town yet weren't you told to leave town?" I said, well, I've been working on it, but you people won't seem to leave me alone long enough for me to get organized enough to move."

They suggested that I speed things up. Debbie called the chief of police bitching about it. Here came the cops again, following us around for a few more days. They had started to put the police reports in the paper on Mondays. I noticed that the area was having an average of at least four suicides a week. One day they claimed that four different people walked out on their back porches (on the same day) and shot themselves in the head. I had started to make a list of the pople who I knew were involved with what was going on around me and had been videotaping a lot of it from the cameras that I had hooked up in my van. A lot of the tapes were disappearing as fast as I could record them, but I was managing to tuck some of them away. I drove up to Quincy, Illinois to go to a doctor's appointment that I had made for my back pain and arms going numb.

I had been to the hospital up there already, right after I got out of the Stephens unit because of all the trouble and pain I was having since that Joplin cop jumped on my back. While I was at the hospital, I had them give me another drug test, as I had done at my appointment at the Quincy Family Medical Practice.

We were followed up there and back. A couple of days later, when I didn't notice anyone immediately behind me, I stopped by the house of my old friends, Larry and Renee. I told her that I hadn't been by because of what had been going on. I started to explain a little of it to her, and tell her who some of them were. She suddenly got a real scared look on her face, and said/Oh No!" She said she knew who some of them were, and they were nobody to mess with. She said they were a bunch of perverted sick bastards into everything from kiddie porn to white slavery and major drugs. She said some of the wheels be hind it were into antiques and old cars. She said they collect them, and I could find them at some of the antique auctions, but I had better be careful. She said they were very dangerous. If Kathy was anywhere around them, it couldn't be good. She said that she and Larry had split up, but she stayed in contact with him. She would tell him that I wanted to get in touch with him. I went back over to Debbie's, and we decided to go to the police station again and talk to Chief Dennis. I told him what had happened at New Directions, and how the cop jumped in the middle of my back, and how I was having trouble with it, and about how I felt that I was being harrassed. I also told him a little about what was going on. He recorded my statements and said that he was going to have an internal investigation. We felt positive when we left.

In the meantime, I was still putting ads in the "Purely Personal" section of the newspaper and someone had suddenly started answering them. I was told that there was a lot of information in the paper, and to read it through and through.

Since December, I had noticed a lot of possibilities here and there in the paper. These people must be stopped at any cost, but how? If you go to the police they arrest you. If you tell people, they put you in the nut house. If you call a federal number or go to Jefferson City they tell you that you have the wrong department. If they catch you, they kill you.

Since they had been following me and trying to stop me, I had begun to know who a lot of them were. I had a pretty good list started. A lot of them were meth cooks. I'd got to know some of their houses. They would give me a funny look like, "Don't you recognize me?" but each time, I would get a little more information. I realized that the majority of them had so much other illegal stuff going on that they were into that if anyone took notice of them for very long, they would not have to look very hard to find something. Towards the end they started to get after me a little more. I guess they were starting to feel that Operation Renegade must have missed them.

Debbie and I were working in the back of my shop on Wall when two cops pulled onto my property. The first cop got out and pulled his gun on me, searched me, and then said, "What are you still doing in town? Weren't you told to leave town?" I said, "I've been working on it. In fact, I was working on it the last time you all stopped me and stole half of my stuff." He said, "When will you be gone?" I said, "Within the next couple of weeks."

Then, he wanted to know if I still had cameras in the van. I said, "Yes, and they're going to stay in there untill you all quit messing with me." He said that I had better speed things up. The next couple of days, I kept trying to think of someone that I could trust. It damn sure wasn't anyone from around Joplin. I couldn't take the chance of them telling someone. Finally, I thought about a guy that I had worked with about fifteen years earlier, Chuck Klosterman. He was one of the most straightforward honest people that I could think of, and I remembered him telling me once that his brother-in-law was an FBI agent.

I spent the next couple of weeks working on the list, and trying to locate Chuck. I had hoped that he still worked for Western. I stopped by Renee's and she told me where I could find Larry. If he wasn't staying in his camper, he was staying with Linda Frazier on Five Mile Road, South of Galina. Linda also had a dead husband. She was a meth cook, along with her two brothers, according to what I was told.

I drove down to the camper in Joplin and found Larry there. He said that he had just moved out of Linda's. I asked him if she was cooking. He wanted to know who had told me that. I told him that I had just heard it. He said that she and both of her brothers were cooks, but he didn't have anything to do with cooking, and he wasn't planning to go back out there. He said that he had just stayed there a couple of days before he got into it with her and she told him to get out. He said that he had left all of his clothes out there, but he wasn't planning on going back to get them.

I asked him if he needed some work. I used to hire him to help me off and on during the last fifteen years when I needed help on my remolding jobs. He asked me about the cars that were all chopped up in back of my shop. I told him that they left them there to make sure that I would notice. I told him that I had been having a lot of problems with people stalking me. I said, "You'll notice some of them-they talk to eachother with their brake lights. A lot of times, when they pass me, they tap their lights three or four times to make sure that I notice them. I told him that I've spent a lot of nights inside the shop because I could often tell by the reflections that they were outside waiting for me to come out.

I drove down to the post office on First and Main to complain about not getting any mail. I had a couple of letters that I had mailed to myself that had gotten sent back instead of being delivered. I asked the guy working there, Skip Walker, if he would see if there was any mail in my post office box because I didn't have the key. He said that he had to check with Kathy first. He knew that there was a problem, and he wasn't giving me any mail, in my name only or not, without going through her.

Debbie and I drove back to Quincy for another doctor's appointment. I saw Butch and asked him what the Hell was going on. He said, "You don't want to know."

We were followed all the way up there and back. It wasn't something that I did that got them on me so bad, it was something that they were doing with someone else and were afraid of what I would do when I found out. It must have been. I had found out about a lot of things along the way, from the names of several of the people involved, and a lot about them, at least in the drug and theft department, but that came later. This wasn't about drugs completely. I've been told murder, white slavery, kiddie porn, Mafia war, drugs, all of the above. I know who all told me what and have several of them on tape. I hadn't been able to get hardly anything of mine out of the house, or collect any rent money in over a year. I was told that someone in an important position had an interest in my wife, and this guy wanted something for nothing.

If anyone ever traces my credit card, especially purchases at Wal-Mart from December, 1999 through March, 2000, then checked WaI-Mart's surveillance videos and other peoples' purchases around the time, give or take twenty minutes of my purchases, there would be one organization in a world of hurt, because when the heat was on, I often drove to the nearest Wal-Mart store, and ninety percent of the time, there would be some of them following me right through the store. They followed me into Wal-Mart several times after March, but not as constantly as they did from December through March.

I bet a lot of gas station videos and receipt records would prove interesting. I had asked dozens of people in December of 1999 through May to call the FBI for me. I was afraid that If I did, I would be an instant goner since I knew I was being watched almost constantly. I bet I visited or called Neil at least a dozen times telling him that I knew who a lot of them were, and about their drug manufacturing, and if they didn't knock the shit off and do something to make it right for the people that they were screwing over, then I would. He said that he had tried to talk to them, but they didn't care. I told him that I was about done giving warnings.

I got in touch with Chuck Klosterman and got his brother-in-law's number. I called him up and told him that I was going to send him a picture of a 1937 Pontiac car that I had for sale, and asked him for his mailing address. I made two copies of the letter that I was going to send him, then I mailed him the letter. I left one copy at the shop and hid the other in the car.

A couple of days later, I noticed that the list I had left at the shop was gone. I didn't know if Debbie had taken it, or if they had taken it. Either way, I knew that I was going to be in for a world of Shit.

I looked everywhere for the letters. The copy was gone. I got hold of Larry and asked him if he could go to Illinois with me for a couple of weeks. The water pump had gone out in my van. We were going to change it first. I got the old one off, and took it to Auto Zone. I came back and started putting it on the van, then found out that they had given me the wrong one. The next day, I went back to Auto Zone. They didn't have the right one in. I noticed that the traffic was starting to build up around the shop, and noticed that they had cars parked around the shop with people sitting in them. We went ahead and stayed all night at the shop.

The next day, I decided, "To Hell with fixing the van". I needed to get out of there. I decided to take the car. They had been saying different things over the radio most of the night. We started towards Illinois. There were at least half a dozen cars and an RV around us. They were making sure that I noticed them. I knew that they had something planned.

At Springfield, I got off the highway and took the airport exit. I drove towards the airport. They followed. I pulled into the airport and rented a car. I told Larry to drive mine, and I would drive the rental. I told Larry that if someone tried to stop us, to make sure at least one of us got away. I had clipped the other letters, about four more copies, and mailed them to myself at a few different places around the country. We started off towards St. Louis. They stayed with us the entire way. We stopped at the casino on the river boat, The Admiral. While at the casino, someone brought a briefcase over to where I was, sat it down beside me and walked off. I picked the briefcase up and walked across the casino two people watched to make sure that I picked it up.  Larry noticed it. I said someone left it over there. I wondered it they were either trying to tell me something or they were setting me up. I started thinking more of a set up because it they just wanted to give me something they would have put it by the car or in the car, not the casino. I said I was not sure what I should do with this.  Somebody left it over there. I can not decide whether to go throw it or turn it in. I noticed tht I was still being watched. Larry said, well it does belong to someone else. I think I would turn it in.  I said, your right and picked it up and took it over to security and told them someone had left it.  If they wanted to give me something they would have put it in or by the car and not in the casino.  I did not know if it was the people watching me or maybe it was the feds trying to give me something and the people following me saw me take it.  It would have been a death sentence for sure.  I felt I did the right thing. We left there and I decided to get a room. We drove just past Kingshighway and I 44. I stopped at a motel and tried to rent a room. They followed us there.  Larry said he was going to order us some food at the drive threw restaurant across the street. I told him that I would meet him at the gas station right across from the motel. I went into the motel and they would not rent me a room.  They told me that they were full. I got back into the car and pulled straight across the street to get gas station lot. The drive went behind the station. I was going to just follow it around to the front. In the back of the station was the tow truck driver with two other people.  They had two blankets laying down like they were covering up dead bodies. All three of them were holding their hats against their chest and had their heads bowed down.  They raised their heads just enough to look at me.  I pulled around them and on around to the front of the station.  I told Larry the motel was full.  We were getting back on highway 44 and going West.  I drove almost to Cuba Missouri and stopped at a busy truck stop and there was a motel across the street.  I was getting real tired by now. I went in to get a room for the night. I noticed they following us in to the motel parking lot. After we got the room, I went out side and sat in the car for about twenty minutes to see if they would come over and talk to me.  But they would not.

The next day we got up and drove on up to Quincy.  I did not notice any of them around when we left the motel and I did not notice any of them following us along the way to Quincy.  

We drove to my Brother Bruce’s house.  I asked him if I could leave my car there He told me I could. Then Larry and I got into the rental car. Before we could leave, Theresa, Bruce’s wife came out telling me that I had some mail and she was carrying a package too.  We did not notice anyone following us to Bruce’s so we felt they might have gave up. I figured that there was probable a tracking device in my car but we figured that the rental car should be clean.  We decided to just wait until the next day to go to the land so we got a room in Quincy for the night.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

June 2000

We got up the next morning and started towards my land by Pleasant Hill Illinois.  I thought I noticed a two-ton pluming truck that appeared to be going the same direction.  I was kind of relieved when

it took the Hull turn off. I was listening to the three hundred-channel scanner that I had. I heard someone say over the scanner, “we are at Ursa. (The town that Bruce lives in) Get a hold of the Quincy Fire Department and tell him that we have his brother from Ursa.”  I did not think there was to many Quincy firemen with brothers in Ursa beside myself.  My other brother just happened to be a Quincy fireman. I drove on to Atlas. At the four-way I saw the van that had left Joplin with us. It looked like it had the same two people in it. It pulled across our path at the intersection.  I only got a glimpse of them and hoped that maybe it just looked like them. I did write down their Missouri license plate number and stuck it in the door pouch of the rental car. We drove on to Pittsfield to get gas for the tractor on my property.  At the Berry turn off, I saw the pluming truck again. I went into Wal-Mart and bought a gas can.  Then we stopped at a gas station and filled it up with gas. We started back towards the hills where I had a trailer.  At Atlas, I thought I saw one of the tan colored cars that had been following us.  I turned off the road and onto the gravel going towards my property. 

I started thinking that if I drove on into my place after I turned onto the lane, there is only one way in and one way out. What if I drove down it and they were waiting? I would not stand much of a chance.  Or else they would not if I saw them first because I would not be able to take the chance.  When I got to the end of the lane, I backed out from going down it. I told Larry that I was going to run into Pleasant Hill and get us some food and soda first.  As I pulled into Pleasant Hill and past the restaurant, I thought I saw them again. I turned south and drove a couple of miles then turned on the back roads and started working my way back towards my place.  I got on the road going to my place. I felt they were around for sure.  Then I spotted a vehicle ahead of us a ways coming towards us.  It was the mail lady. I stopped real fast and wrote a note for her to call the FBI.  Then I thought that I would kill about an hour somewhere while we waited for the law. I turned around and started towards the main road. When we were about a half-mile from the pavement I told Larry to make sure the gun was unloaded.  He said that he did not know how to work it and could not reach it anyway.  I figured then drive So I stopped and got out.  I figured that there was a good chance that we could be stopped so I wanted to make sure there was not anything illegal on us.  I put the clip to the gun in the trunk and made sure the riffle had the stock folded up and sipped up inside a suit case.  I barried it under a pile of clothes.  I got back in the car and drove straight to a public place where I knew other people were. I knew that they would not try anything around witnesses.  I drove straight to Atlas and stopped at the nursery and handed someone there another note. Then I pulled on around to the café parking lot in Atlas and parked. I saw a young girl going towards the café.  I called her over and gave her a note to call the law too.  I thought I knew a couple of them.  I was hoping that they would pull in there and stop.  It looked like a safe meeting place to me. While we were sitting there, I decided to open the package that Theresa had given me as we were leaving their house.  It was the stun gun that I had ordered.

I didn't think anything about it because they are in league in Missouri. Larry said, "The hell with them people. Let's drive on back to your trailer." I said I wanted to wait for a little bit. Larry leaned his seat back and went to sleep. I thought that I noticed the van and three or four of the cars that had been stalking me before drive by. I kept thinking one of them would stop. I finally gave up on them and decided that I was going to go to my trailer. It had been about forty-five minutes since I had passed out the first note and I had been sitting there for about thirty minutes since I had parked in the restaurant parking lot. I figured help wouldn't be far away.

I put the car in gear and pulled forward approximately ten feet. A vehicle pulled in front of me and stopped on my driver's side. Another vehicle passed him and went past the front of my car and stopped. I looked up. A guy jumped out of the first vehicle and pulled out a gun and pointed it at me. The other guy jumped out of the other vehicle and pulled his gun on Larry. Larry had been sleeping. He opened his eyes to find himself staring at a gun in his face. It was the Pike County sheriff on my side. I was staring down his gun barrel.

He told me to get out of the car. I told him, "There is a stun gun in the front seat of this car. If it falls out when I get out, don't shoot me. It's only a stun gun." I got out of the car. He said, "Put your hands on the car. Do you have any weapons in there?" I said, "There is an unloaded .22 rifle underneath all of them clothes in the back seat. It's inside of a suitcase." He asked me, "Do you have a FO ID. card?" I said, "No, I'm not from Illinois so I can't get one." He said, "You're under arrest for not having an Illinois FO ID card." I said, "I don't need one. I'm not an Illinois resident." He came over and searched me and handcuffed me, then took me to the back of the car. This was justgreat. I'd given a note out that said "Call the F.B.I.," begging for help, and they send a Hickville sheriff that had already decided that he'd spotted himself a couple oflonghairs and was going to show them how stupid hicks deal with out-of-towners in Pissfield, Illinois.

The other officer started to search the inside of the car while the sheriff searched the trunk. As the other officer started to get into the car, he said, "There's bad gas fumes in here," took the five-gallon gas can out, and said, "This can has a hole in it and it's leaking all over this car." He dug through the clothes and unzipped the suitcase and took the .22 rifle out. The stock was a folding stock and it was folded up so it would fit in the suitcase. He yelled, "I've got a gun!" I saw the van drive by, going towards Louisiana. I said, "You need to stop that van before they get away. They've been stalking me. I've got their tag number written down on a notebook paper in the front seat of the car." He said, "You don't tell me what to do." I said, "If they get across the bridge at Louisiana they will be gone."

The sheriff then asked me, "What are you doing in Pike County?" I told him, "I own some property up Six Mile by Pleasant Hill." He said, "How did you get property up Six Mile?" I said, "I bought it twenty years ago." He said, "How much property is it?" I said, "Forty acres." He said, "Who'd you buy it from?" I said, "My uncle." He said, "You're gonna show me where it's at." He had been get in his ride. The other officer put Larry in his vehicle. They talked for a minute, then we started towards my property. The other officer followed us, with Larry in his car. All the way there, the sheriff was just worried about how I managed to find someone up Six Mile Creek to sell me some of that good hunting property and asking me if I was planning on getting rid of it. We turned on the lane going to my property. He noticed the trees that had been shredded all over the lane. He said, "What the hell happened here? Who did this?" I said, "When I came down here and saw it, my phone rang and someone from Missouri said, 'Consider yourself served.' Now do you see why I'm asking for help?" He said, "Is that your trailer up there?" I said yes. He said, "Where's your pot field?" I said, "I don't have a pot field." He said, "Don't give me that. I know better. You've got a pot field down here somewhere." I realized that there wasn't any point in trying to talk to this one-sided idiot. He pulled up to my trailer. We got out and he had me go in first while he stayed a step behind, I guess in case he needed a shield. We got inside of the trailer and he told Larry and me to sit on the couch. The sheriff asked if there were any weapons in there. I told him, "Yes. There is an unloaded gun zipped up in a case in the kitchen and there's another one in the bedroom." They had us sit on the couch while they searched in and around the trailer. They kept asking where the pot field was. They were there about forty-five minutes to an hour, searching the trailer and around it. I didn't complain about it because I figured that after searching and seeing that there weren't any drugs or any drug paraphernalia that goes along with drugs, he would realize that we weren't a couple of drug addicts and maybe his attitude would change. If we had been doing drugs around there, they would have seen signs.

After realizing that there wasn't anything illegal in the trailer, they had us get back in their vehicles and drove us back to the Pig County jail. They had towed our car and were waiting for it to arrive so they could search it. The sheriff decided that he was going to keep me. He told Larry he could go when they got done searching the car. Larry asked if there was a bar around where he could go have a drink while he waited. They told him, "This is a small town and we don't want any trouble. We would rather you didn't go in our bars." Larry said, "We have a 12-pack of beer in the car. Would it be okay for me to drink a couple of them?" They told him to take them on over to the courthouse steps and he could drink them over there.

After about an hour, the sheriff decided he found some meth inside of an ink pen. He said it was straight from a lab because it was blue. I asked if I could bond out of there. He said that I couldn't bond out until I had seen the judge, that the judge had to set bond. By the time they got done with the car (they had pulled it outside to search it because of the gas fumes), Larry had finished off the whole 12-pack of beer. They then gave him the keys to the car and told him he could go ahead and go.

A day or two later, they came and got me and took me over to the courthouse. I got in the courtroom. They kept me shackled and handcuffed in there. The prosecutor, Bret living (Liar), got up. He said I was being charged with three Class D felonies: two unlawful use of weapons charges and one charge of possession of less than 33 grams. He said that I owned property up Six Mile Creek, that I owned a house in Joplin, Missouri, and that I owned several rental properties, that I was a former mental patient, that I had a previous weapons conviction, and that I had pending drug charges in Missouri. He was recommending bond at $ 100,000, with weekly drug testing. The judge said that he was setting bond at $10,000 and that in order for me to bond out, I would have to take a drug test and come back once a week for drug testing. He set the next court date for about a week and a half later. After I pled Not Guilty, I told them that everything Bret Irving (the liar) said about my criminal past was not true, that I'd never even been charged with a felony in my life.

They took me back to the jail. I decided to go ahead and take the drug test because I figured that I would pass it easily. I hadn't done any in a week except for some Equate allergy pills and the pills that the doctor in Quincy had been giving me and he had told me that they were non-narcotic. I told them to get the cup, that I wanted to bond out. I got Butch to drive me up to Quincy to get the car that I had left there. I got the car and started to head back to Joplin in order to try and find the car that I had rented. I stopped and checked the hills. Larry had already left. I drove over to Louisiana and stopped at the station where I usually get gas. I went into the bathroom. On the bathroom wall, someone had written: "No Anytime and Bobby didn't go to jail, Glen did."

I drove back to Joplin. Larry had taken the rental car back. I got with Larry and Debbie and we drove back to Illinois. We stayed there for about two weeks. My son called me and said that someone had broken into my garage and had stolen several things, including my welder, cutting torch, diving equipment and numerous other items.

I went to the courthouse in Pissfield and took a drug test. There were definitely no drugs in my system. We went to the court date. We went into the courtroom. They called my case up. I got up and walked to the desk. The judge said, "Let's see now. Did someone check into this guy's assets and debits to determine his net worth?" Someone told him "yes." Then he asked how the drug test turned out. They said, "Positive on the first and we don't have the results on the second one yet." I said, "No way. Somebody needs to re-run them and see if it isn't allergy pills or else the back pain medication I've been taking." They said, "It was a low positive, Your Honor." The judge said, "Are you ready to proceed?" I said, "I'd like to get a postponement to give me a chance to hire an attorney." The judge said, "Now, we've already postponed this once. I don't know if we can do it again." Then he said he would let me have another continuance.

We called up Quincy and made an appointment with an attorney, Drew Schnack. We drove back into the hills up Six Mile Creek. We stayed there, where there were definitely no drugs. I took the third drug test and we drove back to Joplin. I went over to the shop and a friend of Chris Nelson's stopped by. I had only met him a couple of times before. He said, "I heard you had some trouble in Illinois." I said, "Yeah, a little bit." He said, "Were the drugs that they found in a green ink pen?" I said, "I don't know for sure. They didn't show it to me, they just told me about it." He said, "I know who put them in there. You were supposed to get stopped here. They didn't know you were going to leave town." He started crying and said, "I'm sorry for what my family has done." I said, "What's going on?" He answered, "You don't want to know. It's horrible." He calmed down a little and asked me if I was missing any guns. I said, "Several." He said he saw them at Chris Nelson's house and said that Chris and another guy were there when the drugs were put into the ink pen. He described some of the guns that I was missing, I said, "I think I'll go over and talk to him." He warned me, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He told me he had to go but that he would come back later.

I kept thinking about what he'd said and decided to drive over to Chris Nelson's house. I knocked on the back door and no one answered. The door was open, so I walked on in. On the dining room table was a SKS .47, loaded with a 30 round clip. In the room next to the dining room were four people: Chris and three other guys. They had a glass pipe burning and were bent down on the floor splitting up an ounce of meth.

Chris was the only one whom I recognized. I reached out and reached for the pipe and said, "Can just anyone come in here? If not, you should not leave your door open." Chris knew he wasn't in a position to do anything. He was down on the floor and sure I had a gun real handy. He asked how I'd been doing. I said, "It's been interesting." The other three guys were as nervous as Chris, I think mostly because they didn't know me.

I took a hit off the pipe (like I would have stood much chance if I'd said, "No, I'm not going to do any," with three people I'd never seen before splitting up an ounce). I knew that I had to take a drug test, but I figured at the time that my life was more important than failing a drug test.

The next day, Debbie and I drove back to Illinois for the next court date. It was only Monday or Tuesday and I wasn't scheduled to take a drug test, but the probation officer said that I had to take the test. He added that I would have to take a drug test every time I came in for a court date and would not be allowed to leave until I took one. We went into the courtroom and I said that I had an appointment with Andrew Schnack and that he was going to represent me. We went up and talked to Mr. Schnack. He said that for $2500 dollars he would take care of everything. He said that if the traffic stop had taken place the way I'd said it had, he could guarantee that there would be no jail time. He said that he could get the whole thing thrown out. I asked him if I could give him half of the money up front and the other half when he did what he said he was going to do. He agreed to that. I told him that it would take a few days for me to get the money up. He said that as soon as I gave him the $1250 up front, he would get started.

We drove back to Joplin. I noticed that several cars were following me all over. They were swarming around me. I called Neil up. He said that he had company at his house, the law, and that they had made a landing strip out of his yard. Why don't I come out and see him? It was obvious that they had me pretty well cornered. I thought, "Hopefully, I can take a couple of them with me." I told him that I would be right out. I started driving in the direction of his house. A few minutes later, I heard something come over the radio. It said, "Don't anybody touch him, he's mine." I drove on towards Neil's, with all kinds of traffic around me. Some of them started to back off when I got by the truck stop. When I turned on Elm Road, they went on by, except for one or two cars.

I drove on up to Neil's place. I took the first drive that went by his son's trailer. I pulled down by the end of the road and got out. I could see that there were at least a dozen people around there, including the guy I'd seen several times, the one that had been driving the tow truck and pretending that he was standing over dead bodies. Neil walked up to me. I was on the phone. I had Tim from Clinton, Oklahoma, on the other end. I said, "Call me back in twenty minutes. If I don't answer, call the F.B.I." Then I called Debbie and said, "I'm out at Neil's. Can you call me back in about twenty minutes if I don't call you?"

I got out of the car and asked Neil what was going on. He said, "There's been all kinds of busts going on." We started walking towards the front of his trailer. The dozen or so people scattered around all were holding little short ropes (about two or three feet long) with knots tied in the ends of them. I saw Neil's friend, Bobbie; he had a rope, too. I said, "What's going on?" He said, "We know exactly what's going on and where it came from. We've got connections. And everybody wants something done about it now." I said, "There's a good chance it came from the traffic stop in Illinois. How manywarnings did you people need? There was enough evidence in that car that they could have come down here and made over a hundred arrests. I asked you all, a couple dozen times, to knock the shit off and do something to make things right. If you think you all ought to something, then have at it. I'll gladly trade me for over two hundred of you all. I've got all the film from the cameras in my van and all kinds of tapes buried in five different tubes under the ground. You all want me, they will get all five tubes at once. Did you all let Springfield, Camiden, Tulsa, Miami, Oklahoma City and Hanible know that there were cameras in the van they were asked to follow? Did you all really think you could get all of the tapes? I had two VCRs in the van and a good friend. How do you think the other towns are going to react when they find out that Joplin knew there were tapes in the town and didn't tell them?" He said, "It doesn't matter. This didn't come from your stop in Illinois. We know where it's coming from and we're going get something for it now."

Neil said, "Just a minute." I said, "I'll be over by my car." They started talking and started to group up. Someone said, "Neil, you're wanted on the phone." He went inside his trailer. He came out the back door, carrying a phone. He walked over to me and said, "This call is for you." I took the phone. It was Tim in Clinton, Oklahoma. He said, "You said to call you back in twenty minutes. I'm calling you back." My phone hadn't rung. I said, "Give me another fifteen minutes and call me back." I gave the phone back to Neil. He went into the trailer, then came out with the phone again. He said it was for me. It was Debbie. I told her to call back in twenty minutes.

There were five or six of them gathered around, talking. I walked over to the two that were by my car. I said, "I bet I warned them over a dozen times since January. I'm through with the warnings." I stood there and talked to them for a little bit. Neil came over and we talked for a little bit. He said that I could leave when I wanted to. The phone rang again. This time my phone was working again. It was Debbie. She wanted to know what was going on. I told her that I would see her in about thirty or forty minutes. I walked with Neil into his trailer. He showed me the list of stuff that they had taken when he got busted and said that they had the wrong address on the warrant. He told me that they had searched Roy's trailer, too. I told him that I didn't have Roy's name or number on anything that I'd written down. Tim called me again. I told him that I would call him back in about an hour. We talked a little bit more, then I walked out to my car, got in it, and drove off without anyone saying a word.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

July 2000

A couple of days later, Debbie and I drove to Quincy, Illinois, to hire Drew Schnack for the problems with Pike County. Drew told Debbie and me that he could almost guarantee that all charges would be dropped and that there would definitely be no jail time. Then he advised me to get out of Illinois and go back to Missouri and just lay low. I said that I had a doctor's appointment in Quincy the next day. Drew responded, with, "What part of 'Get out of Illinois' don't you understand?" So we left and went back to Joplin.

A couple of days later, while I was at my shop on Wall, I noticed that several cars were gathering outside around my building. Then, there was a knock at the door. I looked out and saw Berry Dobbs. I opened the door and let him in. He said that someone had written a note that included his name on it saying he was involved with drug dealers and that it mentioned white slavery. He asked if I would know anything about it. I answered, "Well, I would hope that someone besides me is trying to keep track of what's going on." He said, "There's a lot of people out there who are upset. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing and to tell you I hope things work out for you. I'm going have to get going, though." I said, "Some people may still have a chance to get out of something they didn't realize they were getting into by doing right." He said, "Well, I just want to wish you luck. I've got to get going. If there is anything I can do for you, just let me know." I said, "There is one thing you can do. You can help me get the hell out of here. Can you meet me in the back of the building in about three minutes after you walk out that front door and give me a ride?" He said he would meet me back there and try to help me out of there.

He went out the front door. I grabbed a half-gallon jar of Drano drain cleaner that I had already filled up about two-thirds of the way, some aluminum foil, and a lid. I went out the back door. There was a patio out there surrounded by twelve-foot high walls. Instead of going on through the fenced patio, I climbed over to the VFW’s side and climbed over the patio wall on their side. Berry was driving around right at the moment when I was clearing the wall. He stopped, I jumped into his pickup, pulled the lid off the jar that was two-thirds filled with Drano, and stuffed the foil in the jar about one and a half inches above the fluid. I held the cap, ready to put it on the jar.

Berry said in a real scared voice, "Glen, what have you got there?" I said, "Insurance. If they get us stopped, it looks like you're gonna go with us." The look on his face was something else. He said, "Which way?" I said, "Through the back of the lot and the hell out of here." He was talking as if there was someone listening to us. As we cleared the field and hit the street, we already had plenty of company around us. He asked, "Where to?" I told him to head to the north end of town and said, "Make sure they don't block us in, or we're all going to go up in smoke." He was zig-zagging through the neighborhood and they were driving all around us.

After we got in the north end of town, I told him to take me to the airport. We had about a dozen cars following us. He hit a bump and a touch of the Drano splashed, just barely touching the foil. It started hissing and Berry just about shit. He said, "What's happening to that?" I said, "Take it easy on the bumps." I noticed the cars back off about fifty feet. They followed us all the way to the turn off into the airport. When we pulled in, they continued to go straight along the highway. Some of them pulled over to the shoulder. As we went towards the terminal, I pulled the foil out of the bottle and dumped the Drano out the window.

I had Berry drop me off at the entrance. I went into the airport and asked them about the next flights going northeast to Columbia, Missouri. I had noticed the flight on their board. They told me it would be departing in about two hours. I said that I might need a ticket, then hung around the airport until the flight was getting ready to go. They asked if I wanted to go out on it. I said, "No." I went over to the car rental agency and rented a car instead. I pulled out of the airport and onto the main road. The cars had left and I didn't see any of them around. I drove over to my son's house and picked up my dog, then drove to Debbie's house.

A day or so later, I decided to drive out to Tanya Jacob's house trailer. There were five or six people out there and she had people coming and going, buying drugs. I decided not to stay long. As I was getting ready to go, a girl named Karen Hendricks asked me if I would give her a ride. I said I would. She had me give her a ride to Mark Willis' house. He wasn't home and she couldn't get into the house, so I drove to the shop on Wall and waited for a while. We started talking for a little bit. Suddenly, she said, "Is my name on that list?" I said, "I don't think so, but I can't say whether or not you're on film following me. You look awful familiar. What all went on to get them on me? What started all this?" She said, "You don't want to know. But they sure underestimated you. Half of them are in jail and the other half are shitting their pants." She broke out some crank and we each did a shot. I asked her for the answers again. She said, "You don't want to know - trust me."

We started back towards Mark Willis' house and the cars started swarming all around us. I got on the main streets where there was other traffic around, then I headed south on Range Line towards the interstate. As we approached the interstate, I noticed that a truck was blocking the road in front of us. Karen said, "There's nowhere to go." I saw the road to the left going towards Holiday Inn, and took it. I pulled up in front of the Holiday Inn, figuring I would have witnesses around if anything happened. She said, "What are you doing?" I said, "I'm getting a room. The roads do not look good today. You can stay or go." She said, "I sure don't want to go face them." We went on up to the room. She told me how Joplin sticks together. She wanted to go get something to eat. I told her I wasn't leaving the motel but that we could go down to the snack room if she wanted. She agreed, so we headed towards the snack room, walking down the hall and taking the elevator down to the first floor. As we were leaving the room, I noticed that Karen picked up the "Do not disturb" sign and stuck it on the outside of the motel room door.

We went down to the snack bar and got some sodas and snacks. After we got in the elevator and started up towards our room, she opened the door inside the elevator where the phone is located and took out a note. It started out, "Are you being rewarded?" and then it had a couple of sentences that didn't make sense to me. We went back to the room. I got up from the table and went to the bathroom. I looked through the peephole in the door to the room as I passed it and noticed that someone was standing in the hall. When I got back from the bathroom, I noticed that my soda had been moved. A couple of minutes later, Karen got up to use the bathroom. While she was in there, I switched drinks with her. She came back and sat down. We could hear people out in the hall.

 

 

 

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