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I have been dealing with conspiracies and cover-ups since I was a small child. My mother and I were almost killed by her third husband and she refused to do anything about it and the neighbors knew what was going on and they refused to call the cops. After I got thrown down the stairs into the basement when I was five and woke up there with a really bad headache, I decided to deal with it myself and I snuck out of the house and went down to the Lutheran church at the end of the block and told the janitor what was happening and he called the police.

The police brought a social worker and I told them what happened and then we went to my step dads house and my mom was forced to tell them what happened. We were removed from the house and social services got us an apartment.

Soon after my mom divorced my step dad. Did my mother and my grandparents thank me for what I did? NO! I got yelled at for making things worse which I couldn't understand.

After we got settled and my mom went back to work things seemed to straighten out so I thought the drama was over. Not so!

My mother met another man and she got serious with him and they got married. We moved back to my mom's hometown of Brighton, Colorado where we got a house on the west side of town.

That is when the fun stuff started as my mom's fourth husband told stories that shook her up and fascinated me. He spoke of being a Green Beret and served in the CIA's assassination program in Vietnam. He also spoke of the John F. Kennedy assassination and how he was in Dallas that day and knew the identity of the shooters. He said that Oswald was used as a cover so the shooter on the Grassy Knoll could get off a shot without anybody knowing where the kill shot really came from. He said Oswald came from a radical CIA group in New Orleans that hated Kennedy. This group was tied to everything including the Bay of Pigs operation and other Pentagon/CIA covert operations.

As a small child it was hard for me to know how much of this was true or whether he was just telling a story to keep us entertained. Much of this my mother reiterated years later as it was hard for me to grasp all of this at such a young age.

Some time later we went to a movie in Denver about the Kennedy assassination that showed how it probably was done to include other shooters and a cover-up by people in government who hated JFK.

My stepdad worked for Burlington Northern railroad and told everyone he worked the same story he told my mother and I.

A few weeks later we were going to another movie and were stopped at the intersection of Bromley Lane and highway 85. As we were turning onto the highway, I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye and a sudden jolt that threw me forward and then back into the seat. When I was able to focus my eyes, I saw that we had been hit head on by another car, and that both cars had come to rest on the middle of the road.

My mother was holding her face and I saw that she bleeding from the face and it was obvious that she had hit the windshield. My stepdad was laying back against the seat and I could tell that he was dead as the steering wheel was up against his chest.

I saw the other car and the driver was alive but hurt and his passenger was also hurt but alive. I felt sorry for both of them, but years later I would regret that as I found that they were both illegal aliens and drunk and driving north in the southbound lanes of highway 85.

Later when my grandparents went to court to make sure that this man did time for what he did they were astounded when two men entered the courtroom and asked to see the district Attorney and judge in chambers. When they came back out the judge told the court that the defendant was being released into the custody of the US State Department and they would take it from there.

My grandparents were furious with the judge but knew there was nothing they could do. They hired a lawyer who investigated the whole affair and the State Department denied they had sent anyone to pick up the defendant and said that would be a Border Patrol issue not State Department's.

Later in high school while hanging out at the local Burger King I was approached by a man who wanted tot talk in private. He told me that the accident was no accident and that my stepdad talked too much and he scared some people in D.C. so they hired one of his own trainees from his CIA days to take him and us out, but didn't work as my mother and I were still alive. He further stated that my stepdad trained anti-Castro Cubans in Florida and was on the beach with them when the invasion failed. He then told me that it was the CIA that got the defendant out of the courtroom that day as they were afraid, he would talk.

I asked him how they could convince him to drive on the wrong side of the road and willing put himself in harms way to do such a thing. He replied by asking me if I have ever heard of a subject called mind control? I told him I had and he said that they used a combination of alcohol and drugs on hm and told him it was his mission to stop my stepdad from endangering their operations.

He said that trying to also kill my mother and me was overboard and the CIA is not allowed to do that on American soil and that I had nothing to worry about is would not happen again.

At that point he excused himself and left. Needless to say, I was shocked and didn't know what to make of it. I was hoping to ask him who he as but didn't get the chance. I also knew that he probably wouldn't be able to tell me. Yet I instinctively knew who he worked for.

Once again, another foray into the world of conspiracies.

Once my mother was out of the hospital my grandparents moved in with us in a new house my mother bought with the insurance money in Fort Lupton. It was there that I saw and heard my mom and grandparents argue over everything from money to her going to the bar after work.

I also found as I listened at night my mom and grandparents talk that conspiracies and cover-ups were notorious in this family as my mom's second youngest sister was raped by her husband while they were in high school and it was covered up and the cops were never called. My aunt married that man who did that to her which confounded me to this day.

Not to be outdone, my mother's youngest sister was raped at twelve by an illegal alien who worked for my grandfather on their farm. Once again it was covered up because my grandfather was afraid, he would be in trouble for hiring an illegal alien. My grandmother took my aunt to a back-alley doctor so that she could get an abortion.

Another conspiracy and cover-up in place.

More to come later!