"1979" "1979" "1979" "1979" "1979" "1979" "1979"

"1979" -- Copyright 2001 - 2010 James Thomas Westbrook --- All Rights Reserved --- The author exercises any and all rights of exclusivity he is lawfully entitled to pursuant U.S. Copyright Law as a literary property, ---- "1979". ---- first registered December 31st 2001 with the U.S. Copyright Office. ---- The author also exercises any and all copyright protection he is entitled to as a graphic artist --- regarding the copyrighted photo art montages included thereon each and every one of the title pages of Parts 1 through 13 ---- as well as the various Roman Numeric Sub-Parts comprising, Parts 1 through 13 --- of this synopsis to "1979" --- my copyrighted non-fiction book on which the copyrighted material posted herein this website is posted thereat http: 1979westbrook.com.--- Any inquiries regarding the material contained herein this website may be made by contacting me at my e-mail address: James@79westbrook@gmail.com or calling me on the phone at ( 310 ) 902-1058.

 

PART 12

Showdown At
The Western Airlines Corral

A Night Filled With Even More Terrifying Revelations --- A Bomb Threat To Scare Me Off My Flight To L.A. --- The Bomb's Even More Incredible Defusing --- A Scary Unscheduled Stopover At SFO 'Frisko'

 

America Transfixed By Media Reports Of Radioactive Leaks At 'Three Mile' --- This The Ultimate Diversion Should The Media Pick-Up Any Leaks Regarding The Assassination Plot 'Frame-Up' At The Portland Hilton, And My March 27th Interview At U.S. Secret Service --- Or Should Things Get Out Of Hand At Portland Airport As I Board My 'Western Airlines' Flight Bound For LAX

Under These Extraordinarily Bizarre Circumstances --- I Conclude That It's Good News That U.S. Secret Service In Portland And Their Allies If Any --- Are Going To Show-Up At Portland International To See Me Onto My Western Airlines Flight Bound For LAX Los Angeles

The Bad News Being That This May Well Be A Full Scale Shoot-Out At Portland International A Any News Reports Coming Out Of Portland Would Be Swallowed Up By Constant Network News Updates & Reports On The Then

 

 

 

Unfolding Nuclear Disaster Clear Across The Country At Three Mile Island Pennnsylvania

Friday March 30th,1979 my apartment in Westslope near Portland --- My arrival at at Portland International, at dusk, Friday evening to check in early for my 8:30 flight for bound for home, LAX Los Angeles. --- My terrifying reception at Portland International to check in for my flight back home at approximately 6:45 pm --- An airport long distance phone 'Black Out' --- Face-Off With A CIA Spook ---- Our departure from Portland Airport for a short trip to Kendra's Dad's to use his phone --- Return to Portland airport board my 8:30 flight --- A bomb threat there inside the cabin of my Western Airlines DC-10 --- The bizzare defusing of the bomb 45 minutes later --- A scary unscheduled stopover at SFO Internationa 'Frisko' --- My 'Red Eye' arrival at Western's LAX Terminal in Los Angeles in the pre-dawn hours of March 31st 1979 & ride back to Covina with freinds.

--- This During Boarding Terminal Full Of CIA 'Spooks', Gangsters, Flanked By Secret Service And Who Knows Who Else --- Just Like My Predictions --- Only Worse

Showdown At The Western Airlines Corral --- The Opposing Send-off Parties 'Dressed To Kill' & Ready To Open Fire Too --- My Long Distance Call To A Half-Sister Who Gets The Word On Another Line To Hang-up The Phone --- The Airport Long Distance 'Black Out' & My ESP Like 'Face Off' With The CIA 'Spook' In Charge --- Kendra's Dad's Phone And A Shot Of 'V.O.' On The Way Out --- The Frenzied Arrival Of Dad's Cuban Freinds As We Drive Off --- Seated Aboard My Flight To L.A. --- The 'Drugged' Breifcase Bomber Carried To His Seat, To Scare Me Off The Plane --- Waiting For The Bomb To Off --- A Second Late Passenger Sent On 40 Minutes Later Sent On Board To Pull The Wires On The Bomb Carried On By The First --- An Unscheduled 'Layover' At 'SFO' 'Frisko' --- Fears Of Being Grabbed Off The DC-10 --- My 'Red Eye' Arrival At LAX, Prayers Of Thanks My Ride Back To Covina --- Post Traumatic Stress

March 3oth 1979 --- The 1st Assassination Of A ParliamentMember Since 1812 --- March 30th Also The Day Of My Western Airlines Flight Later That Evening --- March 30th Pre-Dawn Police Raids Back Home In My Old L.A. Haunts, Just Hours Before My Arrival At LAX --- As Cover For Sheriff's & CIA Spooks Trying To Frame Me At The Hilton, To See If I & Put Out The Word To Discredit Me As 'Paranoid' Upon My Return --- The 'Wild, Wild West' Like Showdown At Portland International --- Apparently Kept 'In-Check' By Secret Service Agents Sent Watch Me Board My Western Airlines Flight Bound For L.A.--- A Long Distance Phone Black Out At The Western Terminal --- A 'Face-Off' With An Intel 'Spook' ---

 

 

Sub-Parts I through VII ( 1-7 ) --- To PART 12 Of This 13 Part
Synopsis & Epilogue To: "1979"

 

I
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Pt 12 Sub Part 1

The Historic 1st Assassination Of A British Parliament Member Since 1812 --- At Just Before 3:00 PM Greenwich Time March 30,1979 --- This Within Minutes Of The L.A. Sheriff' Pre-Dawn AM Pacific Time March 30,1979 Gang Raids In West Covina Area & Other Local Haunts Where I Grew-Up

 

--- The Sheriff's Gang Raids, Done IN Apparent Anticipation Of My Western Airlines Flight's Scheduled 8:30 PM Take Off From Portland Airport --- And Arrival At LAX Los Angeles Sometime Before 10:30 PM

--- Apparent Cover For Sheriff's Plugged Into The 'CIA' & FBI To Meet Informants To See If I Wrote Or Phoned Anyone Back In L.A. --- Only Hours Prior To My Scheduled Return To L.A. County Later That Same Night

The Historic 1st Assassination Of A British Parliament Member Since 1812
--- At Just Before 3:00 PM GMT March 30th 1979 --- This Within Minutes Of The L.A. Sheriff' Pre-Dawn AM PST March 30th 1979 Gang Raids In West Covina And Other Local Haunts

--- The Sheriff's Gang Raids, Done IN Apparent Anticipation Of My Western Airlines Flight's Scheduled 8:30 PM Take Off From Portland Airport --- And Arrival At LAX Los Angeles Sometime Before 10:30 PM

--- Apparent Cover For Sheriff's Plugged Into The 'CIA' & FBI To Meet Informants To See If I Wrote Or Phoned Anyone Back In L.A. --- Only Hours Prior To My Scheduled Return To L.A. County Later That Night, March 30th 1979

 

Click on the photo-image link above in there in the form of the L.A. Times for March 31, 1979 to view the rest of this front page article as well as other related news articles relating to Part 12 of this Synopsis to "1979".

--- This Within Only Minutes The Historical Assassination Of A Parliament Member In London --- The 1st Since 1812 --- At Just Before 3:00 PM Greenwich Time --- This Only 8 Days After the Double 'Hit's On Ambassador Sykes At The Hague & Financier Michaux In Belgium March 22-23rd, Both Within Hours Of The Elevator Incident At The Portland Hilton

 

Friday Morning Double Whammy The Day Of My Scheduled Friday March 30th Flight --- Feds & L.A. Sheriff's Through Gang Sweeps Throughout The Eastern San Gabrial Valley Where I Grew Up And Was Scheduled To Return To That Very Night --- The Raids As 'Cover' For The Feds & CIA To Talkk With Informants & Snitchs To See If I Contacted Anyone Back Home About My Plans To Return Later That Night ---

This Only Minutes Apart And Halfway Across The Planet --- The Assassination Of Parliament Member Neave, The 1st 'Hit' On A Brit MP Since 1812 --- This Only
8 Days After Double High Profile 'Hits O Brit Ambassador Sykes At The Hague & Financier Michaux In Brussels March 22-23 '79 --- C

Neave Then Incoming British P.M. Thatcher's Mentor --- This --- March 22nd The Day Of The Near Fatal Late Morning Elevator Incident At The Portland Hiton Where I Worked

Meanwhile Back At The Ranch --- Feds & Sheriff's Raid My L.A. 'Hood'
--- CIA 'Psy Ops' Propaganda Puts Me Under A 'Three-Mile' Radioactive Cloud Of Suspicion
--- In The Event I Should Somehow Manage To Get Of Portland Alive

Federal Anti-Gang & L.A. Sheriff's Pre-Dawn Gang Raids --- Timed To Coincide With My Scheduled Airline Flight Arrival Back To L.A.Later That Night --- This In & Around The East Valley Area Where I Grew Up And Had Friends & Relatives --- This A Contingency Plan --- In The Event Of My Possible Actual Return --- The Primary Plan To Scare Me From Boarding My Western Flight At Portland Airport --- Back To LAX

Feds & L.A. Sheriff's Pre-Dawn Gang Raids in My 'Hood' As 'Cover' To See Who I Might Have Covertly Contacted --- And Also To Disseminate Orders For Police 'Informants' 'Snitchs' & 'agitators' How Best To Put The Buzz Out To Discredit Me As A Paranoid Anti-Nuker --- Upon My Then Upcoming Return To L.A. Under A 3 Mile Island Radioactive Cloud Of Suspicion --- And CIA 'Psy-Ops' Propaganda That My Paranoid 'Anti-Nuker' Return To L.A. Is Somehow Linked --- To The Then Just Unfolding 3 Mile Nuke Disaster Meltdown'--- This Curiously Coinciding With

 

Feds & L.A. Sheriff's Pre-Dawn Gang Raids in My 'Hood' --- Timed To Coincide With My Scheduled Arrival --- As 'Cover' To See Who I Might Have Covertly Contacted

--- Also To Disseminate Orders For Police 'Informants' 'Snitchs' & 'agitators' How Best To Put The Buzz Out To Discredit Me As A Paranoid Anti-Nuker --- Upon My Then Upcoming Return To L.A. Under A 3 Mile Island Radioactive Cloud Of Suspicion --- And CIA 'Psy-Ops' Propaganda That My Paranoid 'Anti-Nuker' Return To L.A. Is Somehow Linked --- To The Then Just Unfolding 3 Mile Nuke Disaster Meltdown'--- This Curiously Coinciding With

 

Feds & L.A. Sheriff's Pre-Dawn Gang Raids in My 'Hood' & Local Area Where I Grew-up & Have Freinds --- The Gangs Raids Episodically Timed To Coincide With My Scheduled Arrival In L.A. Later That Same Night --- Apparently As 'Cover' To See Who I Might Have Covertly Contacted Locally --- Also Providing Opportunity To Disseminate Orders To Discredit Me As A Paranoid Anti-Nuker Fleeing Portland --- And Possibly Linked To The The Ongoing 3 Mile Nuclear Disaster There at It's Height on March 30th 1979

The L.A. Gang Raids Curiously Coinciding With The 'Car Bomb' 'Hit' On Conservative P.M. Neave Outside The Parliament --- The 1st First Assassination Of Sitting Parliament Member Since The Year 1812 ---

 

--- The 1st 'Hit' On A Sitting Brit P.M. Since 1812 --- This only 8 Days After the Double 'Hit' On Ambassdor Sykes in Holland & Belgian Financier --- Same Day As The Portland Hilton Elevator Incident of Thursday March 22nd 1979 ------

 

Chapter 80. of "1979" ---
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Approximately --- 3:30 to 6:30 AM, morning, West Coast - Pacific Standard Time (PST)--- L.A. & Portland --- Friday March 30,1979 --- about one hour later, just prior to, during & after 3:00 PM in the afternoon, Greenwich Time March 30,1979 ---Westminster - London.

Later that same night, approximately 6:25 pm to 6:45 pm "PST" at Portland International Airport, Portland, Oregon --- March 30, 1979.

There was Method in their March '79 Madness ---
Murder & Mayhem: -

Panic-like, episodically timed, pre-dawn 'gang raids' in L.A. County --- March 30, 1979 --- The 1ST Assassination of a British Parliament Member since 1812 --- March 30, 1979 --- Which also takes place just hours before my Western Airlines DC-10 flight out of Portland --- On March 30,

1979 --- And scheduled for landing at LAX - Los Angeles that very same night --- March 30, 1979.

Episodically timed L.A. Sheriff's gang-raids as a 'fronts' for intelligence gathering from 'snitches' & informants in my hometown --- March 30,1979.

The L.A. Sheriff's gang-raids hours prior to my return from Portland, to L.A. --- March 30, 1979.

All this within hours of the 1st assassination of a British Parliament Member Since the year 1812, with the 'hit' on 'MP' Neave --- March 30, 1979.

The Episodically Timed pre-dawn morning 'gang-raids' by L.A. County Sheriff's in My Hometown Haunts of East Los Angeles County, March 30, 1979 --- serve as 'fronts' for intelligence gathering from 'informants' & 'snitches' presumably regarding any "grapevine" talk or rumors of my scheduled arrival in L.A., from Portland, aboard my Western Airlines Flight out of Portland, later that night of March 30, 1979

1st Assassination of a Member of the British Parliament Since 1812 with 'hit'

on the Brit 'MP' A. Neave, March 30, 1979 ---
Neave Then very-soon-to-be Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher's Political Mentor, approximately 1 hour later, London-Greenwich Time --- March 30, 1979, some 8 time zones away, outside Parliament, at Westminster-London.

The Symbiosis between the Pre-dawn raids in L.A. County in on my old neighbor hours prior to my scheduled arrival March 30, 1979 -----
The Assassination of Brit Conservative MP Neave about an hour or two later also on March 30, 1979

II
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Pt 12 Sub Part 2

'Dressed To Kill' --- And Ready To Open Fire Too
A Drag Off My Smoke --- Waltzing In To Check My Baggage Like Nothing's Goin' On
--- Only A Foreshock To The Seismic Like Events About To Unfold At Portland Airport

A Volitile & Potentially Violent Showdown, Turned Stand-off At The Western Airlines Boarding Terminal At Portland International --- As Armed Factions Of U.S. Secret Service & It's Government Intel Allies Square Off --- Against All Powerful Subversive 'Black Operators' Elements In The CIA & FBI & Local 'Mob' --- Dispatched There To Scare Me Off From Boarding My 8:30 Western Flight Bound For LAX Los Angeles --- The Surrealistic Imagery of DC-10's Turbine Through The Terminal's Glass Wall --- Looking For 'Flashes' Of Welder's Arcs On The Plane --- Flashing Back To The United DC-8 Jet Crash Nearby Only Three Months Before In December '78 --- My Getting Quizzed About It By Kendra

'Fear Of Flying' Suddenly Takes On A Whole New Meaning Inside The Western Airlines Boarding Area At Portland International --- As I Walk Straight Into An Apparent 'Stand-Off' Between U.S. Secret Service Watching Me Board My Flight --- And The CIA 'Spooks' & Feds Who Were Trying To Frame Me At The Hilton, Now There To Scare Me Off My Flight To L.A. --- View Of The DC-10 Through The Glass Oddly Surreal --- As I Study Turbine On The Tail Section --- Musing On The Old 1962 "Twilight Zone" Television Episode About 'The Imaginary Gremlin' That Turned Out To Be Real --- Looking For Possible CIA 'Gremlins' ---

 

Chapter 81. of "1979" ---
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Approximately 6:30 - 6:45 pm PST, Friday March 30, 1979

More March Madness --- March 30, 1979:

'Showdown' at the old Western Airlines Corral ---

Portland International, Pistol packing CIA-'Mob'-Intel goon farewell reception, send-off/ face-off with U.S. Secret Service & it's allies;

--- An audaciously brazen and Kafkaesque bit of Nazi -Gestapo like, late 1970's style, U.S. National Security State Sponsored terrorism

--- Most apparently contrived and executed in impressively fascistic fashion, there in attempt scare me off my Western Airlines DC-10 Flight bound for Los Angeles the night of --- March 30, 1979.

--- Sis gets the word I'm dead on the other line, pretends she can't hear me & hangs-up:

--- Same day of the 'hit' On Brit MP Neave &
L.A. Sheriff's 'Gang-Raids' in hometown 'hoods'March 30, 1979 ---

SHOWDOWN AT THE OLD "WESTERN AIRLINES" CORRAL:

NOW SHE HEARS YOU, NOW SHE DON'T;
THE MAN WHO STOLE THE WORLD;

FAREWELL RECEPTION AT PORTLAND AIRPORT WITH THE
U.S. SECRET SERVICE & IT'S ALLIES BACKING MY PLAY;

OPPOSING FACTIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY STATE & THE LOCAL "MOB" EXQUISITELY TAILORED & NEATLY PRESSED INTO SERVICE, SO MANY SUITS IT LOOKED LIKE A JOB FAIR;

THERE WAS SO MUCH ARTILLERY UNDER THOSE NICELY TAILORED SUITS THAT I WAS AFRAID IF SOMEONE FARTED LOUD ENOUGH GUNS WOULD START BLAZING AWAY, & I WOULD GET IT IN THE CROSS-FIRE IF NOT DIRECTLY;

IT WAS TERRIFYINGLY SURREALISTIC, YET ALL TOO REAL.

NOW SHE HEARS YOU, NOW SHE DON'T:

IN ORDER TO HELP COMPOSE MYSELF I WENT TOWARDS AN UNOCCUPIED EDGE OF THE WESTERN AIRLINES BOARDING AREA & LIT UP A CAMEL LIGHT AS I SURVEYED WHAT LOOKED LIKE WHAT MIGHT TURN INTO A FIELD OF GUNFIRE & MAYHEM AT ANY MOMENT
JUDGING BY THE DEADLY SERIOUS, & EXTREMELY TENSE SITUATION WHICH I WAS THEN THRUST INTO THE VERY CENTER OF NO LESS;

NOT TRUSTING MY FIANCE, THE GOVERNMENT INFORMANT AS
FAR AS I COULD THROW HER, I KEPT SECRET FROM HER MY PLAN TO CALL UP FAMILY MEMBER AT THE VERY LAST MINUTE, SO THAT I WOULD HAVE SOMEONE TO PICK ME UP FROM LAX AIRPORT, WHEREAS I AFRAID OF GETTING GRABBED IN A TAXI OR BUS
BACK TO COVINA;
THE RELATIVE I CALLED WAS A HALF-SISTER, WHO SOUNDED
TOTALLY SURPRISED WHEN I CALLED HER UP, STARTED TALIKING TO HER THERE IN HOPES SHE WOULD MAKE THE DRIVE DOWN TO PICK ME UP FROM THE AIRPORT;

WITHIN A MATTER OF SECONDS HER SUDDENLY PANICKED REPLY WAS;
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU, I CAN'T HEAR YOU JIM!"
THEREIN A MANNER MOST CURIOUSLY, IF NOT SUSPICIOUSLY UNCONVINCING;

WHEREBY I REPLIED;
"GEE, THAT'S FUNNY I CAN SURE HEAR YOU."
AS I LISTENED TO SOME COMMOTION IN THE BACKGROUND WHERE SHE WAS AND HER GASPING, ALARMED BREATH, & FINALLY THE LINE WENT DEAD;

THERE WERE SEVERAL PHONES IN THE HOME WHERE SHE THEN STAYED, & HER ROOMATE WAS AS I UNDERSTAND IT WAS TO BECOME A LONG TIME EMPLOYEE OF GENERAL TELEPHONE IN THE YEARS TO COME.

Chapter 82. of "1979" ---
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Friday, March 30, 1979, Friday, approx. 6:45 - 7:50 pm PST

March 30, 1979 --- Madness Continues
with More Freaky 'F'n' Friday Fall-Out:

Chapter 85. of "1979" --- April 1979
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

April 1979 --- Back in L.A.
Wary Vigilance & Paranoia a way life

III
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Pt 12 Sub Part 3

An Airport Long Distance Phone Black Out --- A 'Freaky Friday' 'Face-to-Face-off ' With The Head CIA 'Spook' In Charge --- A Quick Trip To Kendra's Dad's To Use His Phone --- Kendra & Dad Stand Next To Me, In Fear & Frustration, Listening To What I Say On The Phone

 

 

Portland Airport long phone black-out;
--- A creepy hunch Guess Leads To a creepier face-to-face with a CIA 'spook' honcho.
--- A quick trip to girlfriend's Dad's to use his phone blows their 'covers'.
--- The insane, jump out of a speeding truck arrival of girlfriend's Dad's "Cuban friends".

Apparently sent, only seconds too late to prevent me from returning to Portland International Airport & My Western Airlines DC-10 flight bound

My 1st Phone Call Back Home My Move To Vancouver Washington Some 18 Months Earlier On September 11th 1977

Month --- To A Sister Back Home Who Greets Me Warmly At First --- A Call To Her On Another Line --- Suddenly It's 'The Kiss Of Death' From 'Sis' Who Pretends She Can't Hear My Voice On The Line --- A Long Distance 'Black Out' At Western Terminal Immediately Follows --- Street Instincts ? Or A Psychic Guess ? --- Leads To A 'Spooky' Face-Off The CIA 'Spook' In Charge --- My Decision To Make A Run To Kendra's Dad's So As To Circumvent The Airport's Long Distance 'Black Out' --- Fuck It, I'll Call A Surfer Freind Back Home Instead

Surprise Long Distance Call Back Home To A Sister Glad To Hear From Me --- Then Suddenly Pretends She Can’t Hear Me & Hangs Up --- The Instantaneous Airport Long Distance Phone Black Out --- A Chilly Fucking Sendoff From The GTE Phone Operator --- My ESP Like Discovery resulting in a In A Bizarre Face-Off With The CIA 'Spook' in Charge ---

 

 

 

My Surprise last minute Long Distance Call back Home To My Half-Sister In Covina --- Someone on another Phone line To Gives Sis The Word That I'm Already Dead --- Suddenly She pretends she can’t hear me & hangs-up --- --- The Instantaneous Airport Long Distance Phone Black Out --- A Chilly Fucking Sendoff From The GTE Phone Operator --- My ESP Like Discovery resulting in a In A Bizarre Face-Off With The CIA 'Spook' in Charge -

 

The Airport Long Distance Phone 'Black-Out'Another GTE Payphone swallows some more of my quarters --- as the normally operator reserved operator --- goes corporate gangster & gives me the chilliest fucking --- kiss your ass goodbye I ever I've ever heard As The long distance telephone 'Black Out' at Western Airlines terminal --- Portland International continues --- --- Sis gets the word I’m dead on the other line, pretends she can’t hear me & hangs-up:GTE gets in on the last kicks by swallowing up my last quarters & giving me the chilliest fucking --- kiss your ass goodbye

GTE gets in on the last kicks by swallowing up my last quarters & giving me the chilliest fucking --- kiss your ass goodbye I ever got --- Fuck It I get more quarters --- walk over to another bank of GTE payphones and stat er g

 

The Second of two ESP like incidents occurs --- when after trying to make my third the phone line sI

Promts an ESP Like Response By Me --- Resulting In A Face-Off With The CIA 'Spook' in Charge --- If you could have seen his face --- I can see why these guys are called 'spooks' --- Like the Devil Himself he was too ---

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

FACE OFF WITH THE MAN WHO STOLE THE WORLD

As I recall, after the weird scene on the telephone to my sister
Ann turned the cold shoulder on me before the line went dead,
I then decided that I was going to make another phone call from
that very same bank of phones then owned and operated by General
Telephone, (now Verizon), and so I think I may have got some more
change, presumably from the Western Airlines ticket counter and then
went to another phone therein the bank of payphones which formed
a kind of island, therein the middle of the Western Airlines boarding
area.

Unlike the first phone that I used during the abruptly terminated
phone call to my half-assed, snitch of a half-sister Ann, which was
a single lone payphone installed at one end of the bank of a dozen
or so GTE payphones, this payphone was on one side, one in a row
of 5 or 6 payphones, at which time time I put the money, about a
buck and a half or so, dialed up th number and the long distance
phone line to Ann's place in Covina went dead.

I made this call to the same phone number because I was really
going to put her feet in the fire on this one and give her hell
for blowing off and pretending she couldn't hear me prior to the
phone line going going dead, compliments of GTE (now Verizon).

When the GTE phone that I had just dumped a half dozen or so
quarters into wouldn't give me change back, after the phone line
was once again disconected I got really pissed off, and called the
robotic like GTE phone operator and demanded that she give, use her
control thta opertors use to return one's change, as was often the
case in those days with payphones.

After the phone opertor said that she could not return my change
I think I told her my feelings about the GTE telephone service and
then hung up the phone. At that precise moment I had a rather strong
intuition, or psychic flash, or swhatever one might call it, but
I could somehow sense that there was somebody there on the other
side of th GTE phone bank who knew something about this sudden rash
of long distance phone blackouts I was then experiencing just at
that moment.

It was one of th most damnest experiences for me in my
like, it was like my rain had some kind radar or tractor beam that
was focusing in on this individual on the other side of the phone
bank, like electricty. I then decided, or rahter should I say felt
compelled to take a peek around the corner of the phone bank to see
who or possibly what it was that made my instincts react in such
a curious fashion.

As I walked around the corner I was suddenly confronted by a
man not much taller than myself, who had what I would to say was
one of the most intensely furious expressions I had ever seen on
a man's face, he looked positively livid a somewhat pink and red
in th face as this guy stared at me with looks that wished looks
could kill.

When I saw this face it was like looking at the devil himself
for a moment or two, at which time I could feel the blood suddenly
leave my face, it must have turned a few lighter shades of pale,
as if my heart had sunk as well, I was for a moment terrified of
this face at which time th man's facial experession went from intense
anger and apparent frustration to a radically different facial
expression of truimphant glee and delight therein an evil and
psychotic sort of way, whereas this guy thought he now had me
buffallowed for sure, judging by what must have been the rather
intense look of terror on my face and th fear in my eye.

After those few seconds as we both stood there in speechless
silence, therein the Western Airlines boarding that night of March
30, 1979 surrounded by heavily armed serious men both good and evil,
I then managed to muster up a little of my inner resources and gave
this guy a look.

*****************************
Overlap text ABOVE from "1979--J4"

The gentleman who I was having a bit of a face-to-face showdown
with, was I think the man calling the shots, or in this case the
decision not to fire shots therein the Western Airlines boarding
area of Portland Intenational Airport on March 30, 1979.

The I saw looked to be about 5'-7" tall or so, looked to be
an American of northern European descent, with what looked like from
my angle to have been very sparse amounts of hair on top, an had
a fair complexion, and what I would say looked to be a rather
intelligent and ruthlessly cunning face which I had to somehow admire,
kind of like when Sherlock Holmes met the fiendishly evil Proffessor
Moriarity.

I now seem to recall that the man looked to be in his fifties,
of an average build for a man his age, and may have been wearing
some wire rimmed glasses, though I'm not certain on this point,
however this fellow did have an aire of authority and confidence
about him that strongly suggested he was the kind of person who as
used to commanding men and handling them very well in tricky an
delicate situations such as the one we were both thrust into together
at that precise moment, this dude was connected, at least in my
assessment of the gent at that time.

After the Holmes-Moriarity like face-off I then returned to
where Kendra was standing thereoff to one side of and on the perifery
of the Western Airlines boarding, near what I vaguely recal may
been a column or something like it at which time, fealing up the
game and now more sporting than ever I stood next to Kendra who
was facing the bank of payphones, pulled her close to me and then
said in her ear in low voice behind her full 1970's Hippie-Afro like
hair:

"Let's see if your father's phone works."

After that I immediately took Kendra by the arm and then escorted
her out of the Western Airlines boarding area, walked down the long
corridor fo the airport terminal and Kendra, as per my directions
then drove me directly over to her father's house which was only
a few miles away from Portland International Airport.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

I had been to Kendra's father's place few times before in recent
months, which I vaguely recall was most likely located in the
Southeast section of Portland somewhere on southeast 49th or possibly
48th Avenue, there between Division St. and Powell Blvd. to the south,
which is as near as I can tell after all these 20 plus years.

/////////////////
Research Note:
This place should not be to hard to verify the location

As I recall Kendra and I left the airport therein Kendra's VW
Bug, and as I sat next to her in the front passenger smoking a
cigarette, I kept an eye peeled for any kind trouble imaginable ahead,
and I repeatedly looked back to see if any cars were following us
from Portland International as we both headed south down NE 82nd
Avenue during those first few minutes after we left.

When Kendra turned off 82nd Ave. I recall that I greatly relieved
to be off of such a well travelled highway, and Kendra then took
I what I beleive was most likely took NE Glisan Ave. going west
to NE 50th Ave. and proceeded south thereon 50th into the Southeast
section of Portland, near Division St. going west and from there
to 49th or possibly 48th and as we drove south I recall the stands
of tall trees along what must have been th east side of the road
which continured until we reached Kenda's father's house.

Kendra's father's place was a small one story, woodframe house,
situated thereon a rather large lot about one third, to one half
acre, or possibly more in size, not knowing the precise boundaries
and all, and had a long unpaved driveway, about 120 or so feet long
going west to the small house. The driveway was all covered with
gravel, and due to the constantly rainy weather of Portland, had
quite a few chuckholes and dips in it which acted like speed bumps
as Kendra drove her "Bug" towards her father's house therein near
pitch like darkness, at about 7:00pm on March 30, 1979.

On the way over I told Kendra that I was going to telk her father
Ken just what I had told everyone else, except for Kendra and the
U.S. Secret Service whereas most any plausible lie is more believable
than than an implausible and highly unlikely sounding truth.

The cover story being in this case that my mother had just
suddenly become gravely ill and was hospitalized thereas the result
whereby it became immediatley imperative that fly home to Los Angeles
County and see her during this family crisis.

Kendra then parked the little VW Bug up close to the little
wood frame house, and we both walked up to the front door and Kendra
rang the doorbell, whereby her father Ken answered the door a bit
surprised and let us both inside his home.

Kendra's father seemed to in his usual reserved, but congenial
self, and had a kind laid back demeanor pretty typical for many a
blue collar type and construction worker, I had known over the years.
Kendra's father was a plumber by trade, a pretty well paid one by
his account.

I then gave Kendra's father the bulshit cover story regarding
the the bogus family emergency, that being my mother had just become
seriously ill and was taken to a hospital at which time Kendra's
father expressed his sympathies and hopes for her speedy recovery,
whereby I graciously accepted his condolences and kind words, at
which time Kendra then interjected and asked her father if I might
be permitted to use his phone to call a friend back home, who I could
then ask to pick me up from Los Angeles International Airport upon
my arrival there later that night and then drive me to my family.

Kendra's father reacted as most anyone would have in his
situation, after all I was at the time living with his daughter a
her fiance'and this was after all a family emergency, so he handed
me the phone right there in the livingroom of the small woodframe
and I started dailing away on the phone.

Whereas there was something pretty fishy about the way my sister
Ann had suuddenly pretended that the phone line was dead when I called
her up from the airport, some seconds before thta line actually did
go dead, and as I knew there was another separate phome line at the
home in my old neighborhood where Ann lived, I decided that I was
going call on someone who in the past was a rock solid friend and
someone that I knew I could count on, this was a surfer friend of
mine named John, who also lived in the old neighborhood.

I started talking to John and telling him that my Western
Airlines flight from Portland, Oregon to Los Angeles International
was due to arrive there at sometime around 10: 30 or 11:00 that
night.

During the long distance phone call to John, I then flashed
back how only some minutes earlier, I had been given the brush-off
by my sister Ann and how disheartened I was in a sense, followed
by GTE's long distance telephone call "Black Out" thereat the Western
Airlines terminal area of Portland International Airport, what
with all the Feds, Mob, on one side and the U.S. Secret and their
alllies on the other, and all that artillery they were all packing.

When I heard John's voice, and excitement and delight that I
was comimg home, it was one of, if not he most beautiful sound I
had ever heard in my life, whereby I must have realled the old saying;
"Family your born with, friend you make."

During my phone call to my friend back home in the old Covina
neighborhood, I wanted to tell him a bit about the "Showdown" scene
back thereat Western Airlines boarding area, and possibly a few other
things as well such as;
"Watch your back brother once you get to LAX."
however I then felt rather inhibited and pressed into silence by
what I then saw in the room.

What I saw in the room that so chilled my speech was the rather
peculiar manner in which both Kendra and her father were both standing
there literally transfixed by every word I said as I spoke into
the phone receiver, whereas both Kendra and her father were both
standing only a few feet away from me, watching me instensely, and
were literally hanging on to every word I spoke, that was only broken
Kendra an her father exchanged a number of quick and furtive and
fearfull glances between each other.

This latest revelation of Kendra and her father tripping out
on me as I used the phone, was really too much, after having just
went through that viciously bizarre and Kafkaesque like ordeal back
at the Western Airlines terminal at Portland International.

As the result of all this unwarranted attention in the form
of both Kendar and her dad breathing down my neck as I made that
long distance call from Portland to my friend John in Covina, I
decided to skip saying anything else about what was going on, whereby
it was agreed that when my flight got into Los Angeles International
Airport I was to telephone John, and he would drive over and pick
me up from LAX and put me up for a night at his place in Covina.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

After the long distance phone call I then hung up the telephone
receiver, and thanked Kendra's dad for letting me barge in unanounced
and permitting me to place the long distance call, and then Kendra's
dad walked to the front door, when I noticed a big
quart sized bottle Seagram's V.O. Whisky thereon a counter on the
way out, at which time I then told Kendra's father that right then
I could sure use a drink, whereby Kendra's dad Ken broke out a double
shot sized shot glass full fo V.O. which I tossed right down without
a chaser, afterwhich time Ken walked us both right out on the porch
and we both got into Kendra's VW, and she started th car right up.

As Kendra's dad left the porch and went back inside the front
Kendra had backed her VW Bug up so that her car was at a mostly
perpendicar to the length of the driveway and sonmewaht askew so
that both Kendra and I could both vaguely makeout the sillohettes
of the trees at the end of the driveway running into 4_th Ave. all
cloaked in darkness, and as I recall the porch light thereat the
front of Kendra's dad's house had just then went out just after
Kendar's father went back inside his house.

I think I must have lit up another Camel Light inside the car
and relished the smoke in a kind of celebratory relief at having
been able to break through the long-distance phone line "Black-Out"
thereon the GTE payphones at the Western Airlines terminal at Portland
International Airport, only 20 minutes or so earlier that night,
and was girding my loins so to speak, for my return to the same
Western Airline terminal, and the little crowd of well groomed men,
and all dressed to kill therewith weapons stashed in their expensively
tailored suits.

As I recall Kendra had not yet turned on her car headlights,
as she backed to the position in which the car was then at that moment
and for some reason it seemed a bit lighter outside in the still
rather dark night than when we had arrived, it's possible that the
moon had come up by then and that the clouds had pulled back a bit
whereby it seemed a just bit lighter.

good f that a bit e

t eithe
and Kendra was just about to put the
VW into first gear when suddenly we were both surprised to see the
headlights bouncing up and down from the chuckholes and dips as the
head lights race down the gravel and mud driveway towards Kendra's
dad little woodframe house.

ew
it in driveway Kendra holds off putting the VW Bug into first
gear as e are both amazed at the speedy arrival of this truck to
Kendras ' dads]'s ]place, my adrenaline was still up when I got to
Kendra's dad's place
after all the excitement
I just went through at th Western Airlines terminal.

Finally as the pick up truck, slowed to about 20 mph and into
the light of Porchlight I saw a man jump out of the drivers seat,
as the passenegre next to him slid into the driver's seat and grabbed
the steeriung wheel, like they wer a stunt diving team or something.

A spilt second later I saw the first driver then run right up
to the same front porch where Kendra and I, had only seconds before
said goodbye to Kendra's dad, thereunder the blazing semi-conventional
porch light which lit up the whole front side of the tiny one bedroom
house and a goodly portion of the driveway that ran next to and on
past the front porch on this oversized lot.

Meanwhile the replacement driver of the pick-up who grabbed
the steering wheel, had soemhow mangaed to bring the pick-up truck
to a screeching halt thereon the gravel drive a good distance well
past the house, and weere then going into reverse, whenI said;
"Who in the hell are those guys ?"

I was shocked when Kendra said. "Oh, they're some Cuban friends
of my das's." This rung bad vibe with me and I then said;
"Fuck man, let's get out of here."

Kendra then put the VW into first gear and we drove as fast as we
could back up the uneven gravel driveway with chuckholes up to 49th
? and then east on to up Division, and then north on 82nd and the
Airport.

On the way back to the airport I was tempted to ask Kendra what
or if there was anything she knew about the Cubans in the pick-up
truck, but the manner and the circumstances under which they arrived
seemed to speak louder than volumes could, as did the series of
extremely agitated and furtive glance betwixt Kendra and her father
and then me a I was making my long distance phone call to my friend
in Covina, John thereunder the intense scrutiny of the two therein
the livingroom of Kendra's dad's living room.

That being the situation on the way back to Portland
International Airport, there on that rather bizarre night of March
30, 1979, I decided that I would just keep focused on
keeping my cool and boarding my flight regardless as to how many
heavily armed scary dudes in suits were thereat the Western Airlines
boarding area glaring at me.

I must say this for Kendra she could have bailed out on the
situation at any time and dropped me off anywhere along the road,
but she didn't, was because she grew to like me, or was it because
if she did it might have further revealed that she was plugged into
those trying to railroad me and had orders not to.

 

 

 

IV
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Pt 12 Sub Part 4

A Double-Shot Of 'V.O.' Whisky After The Phone Call Departing Dad's --- The 'Freakily Frantic' Arrival Of Dad's 'Cuban Friends' --- Upon Starting For The Drive Back To The Airport--- Girlfriend Considers Giving Me Up --- I Consider Shoving Her Out & Taking Her Car --- Reading My Thoughts Girlfriend Decides To Drive Me To The Airport Instead

A Quick Drive From Portland Airport To Kendra's Dad's Place Nearby To Beat The Long Distance Blackout --- Unexpectedly Locked In A Three Way Face-Off With Both --- Dad's Anxiety & Frustration At Not Being Able To Ask Kendra About This Recent Turn Of Event s --- He Is Unable To Do So As My Eyes Are Fixed On Them Both

--- Just As Their Eyes Are Fixed On My Face --- Listening Like Theives, Only An Arms Length Or So AwayThe Driver Leaping Leaping Out Of A Speeding Pick-up Upon Arrival --- As A Passenger Grabs The Wheel & Hits The Brakes To Stop Turning Round her car around without Headlights on To Return To The Airport -

-- Girlfriend's Debates Whether Or Not To Feed Me to the Cubans --- I Give Her 'The Stare' Ready To Push Her Out, Borrow Her VW & Drive Myself the airport Alone --- To Catch My 8:30 Western Airlines Flight Back Home

At this point I'm ready for anything And -- She continues on --- Shit If we would have left only a minute or so later I would been fucked

How I recall thinking here she was supposed to drive me to the Hilton to be framed-up and murdered --- and now I got her driving me back to the airport --- Will She play her flip side on me like she has in the past --- I guess she figures that the games up so why not --- but I'll handle things as needed

Seeing a great big bottle in a credenza near the front door --- I ask for and revceive double-shot of Whisky V.O. to Go -

 

 

Quick Thinking & Our Unplanned Trip to Kendra's Dad's Near The Airport --- To See If His Long-Distance Works --- A Bizarre Situational Standoff As Girlfriend & Her Dad Watch Me Make The Call --- Confirms My Suspicions That They're Both In On The Plans To Frame Me Up At The Portland Hilton

Their 'True Colors' of Treachery, Alarm & Apprehension Plainly evident --- As They Hang On To Every Word I Speak On The Phone To My Friend In Covina --- Both Unable To Speak In Front Me --- As I am To My Friend In Front of Them

Their both hanging on every word I speak on the phone --- not to a family member this time, Noooooo Fucking Family --- I'm calling a surfer friend of mine Instead

During the and even weirder --- As I beaded in on them checking me out --- And the unexpected expressions of angst between them --- like some kind of plan is falling apart and they can't talk in front of me --- without blowing it in fron of me --- The night has become a kind of surrealistic tennis match ---

As I can't talk with them studying my each and every word, gesture and facial expression --- I Become Frustrated That I Can't Tell My Surfer Freind About The Deadly Serious Shit I'm Presently Up To My Eyeballs In --- This Whole Scene Further Confirmation Of Their Complicity In The Assassination 'Frame-Up' Scam At The Portland Hilton My freind agrees to pick me up from the airport when my plane flight arrives at LAX Los Angeles Everybody Stays In Charcter After My Long Distance Call Back Home Like Nothing's Wrong --- I Go On With My Cover Story About My Mom's Mythical, Sudden Hospitalization --- The 'Fig Leaf' Like Reason For My Scheduled Flight Back Home --- Nervous Laughter And Phony, Feigned Concern At Ma's Hopes For Recovery Punctuates The Polite Banter ---

V
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Pt 12 Sub Part 5

My Return To The Airport --- A Terrifyingly Bizzarre & Ingenious Bomb Threat To Scare Me Off My Western Airlines Flight Bound For Los Angeles --- If I Run Out The Boarding Ramp I'm Sure To Be Murdered In Portland --If I Stay It's 70 /30 They'll Blow The Tail Section To Get Me

A 'Maltese Falcon' Kiss Goodbye At The Airport --- Unwinding Over 'V.O. 7's' & 'Camel Lights' Aboard My Western DC-10 Flight, Bound For L.A. --- A Semi-Comatose Late Passenger Assisted By A Terrified Western Flight Attendant --- A Conspicuously Out Of Place Leather Valise Strapped To His Wrist --- Apparently Intended To Appear As Bomb --- A Desperate Last Ditch Effort To Scare Me Off My Flight --- No Flight Attendant Or 'V.O. 7's' Served Waiting For The Late Passenger's Bomb To Go Off ---As It's Death, If I Get Off The Plane Now

Return to the the Western Airlines at Portland International to catch My 8:30 Flight to LAX Los Angeles --- Kissing girlfriend goodbye --- Camel Lights, V.O. & Seven's in Seat in my seat at the very last row of seats inside the DC-10 flight cabin ---waiting for the flight to take-off --- The Look of Horror on the face of My flight Attendent as she assists a heavily drugged late-passenger, with a leather valise strapped to one arm to a seat 4 or 5 rows ahead of me on the left side where I'm sitting --- I surmise that the Guy might have a bomb the valise -- and move across to the other side aisle in order to observe this doped-up late passenger with the briefcase --- who not only scared the flight attendent away --- any last hope for chance ordering up some more V.O. & 7's which suddnely seemed called for under the circumstances --- being what looked like to me --- to be my very 'Last Call' for alcohol.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

FACE OFF WITH THE MAN WHO STOLE THE WORLD

As I recall, after the weird scene on the telephone to my sister
Ann turned the cold shoulder on me before the line went dead,
I then decided that I was going to make another phone call from
that very same bank of phones then owned and operated by General
Telephone, (now Verizon), and so I think I may have got some more
change, presumably from the Western Airlines ticket counter and then
went to another phone therein the bank of payphones which formed
a kind of island, therein the middle of the Western Airlines boarding
area.

Unlike the first phone that I used during the abruptly terminated
phone call to my half-assed, snitch of a half-sister Ann, which was
a single lone payphone installed at one end of the bank of a dozen
or so GTE payphones, this payphone was on one side, one in a row
of 5 or 6 payphones, at which time time I put the money, about a
buck and a half or so, dialed up th number and the long distance
phone line to Ann's place in Covina went dead.

I made this call to the same phone number because I was really
going to put her feet in the fire on this one and give her hell
for blowing off and pretending she couldn't hear me prior to the
phone line going going dead, compliments of GTE (now Verizon).

When the GTE phone that I had just dumped a half dozen or so
quarters into wouldn't give me change back, after the phone line
was once again disconected I got really pissed off, and called the
robotic like GTE phone operator and demanded that she give, use her
control thta opertors use to return one's change, as was often the
case in those days with payphones.

After the phone opertor said that she could not return my change
I think I told her my feelings about the GTE telephone service and
then hung up the phone. At that precise moment I had a rather strong
intuition, or psychic flash, or swhatever one might call it, but
I could somehow sense that there was somebody there on the other
side of th GTE phone bank who knew something about this sudden rash
of long distance phone blackouts I was then experiencing just at
that moment.

It was one of th most damnest experiences for me in my
like, it was like my rain had some kind radar or tractor beam that
was focusing in on this individual on the other side of the phone
bank, like electricty. I then decided, or rahter should I say felt
compelled to take a peek around the corner of the phone bank to see
who or possibly what it was that made my instincts react in such
a curious fashion.

As I walked around the corner I was suddenly confronted by a
man not much taller than myself, who had what I would to say was
one of the most intensely furious expressions I had ever seen on
a man's face, he looked positively livid a somewhat pink and red
in th face as this guy stared at me with looks that wished looks
could kill.

When I saw this face it was like looking at the devil himself
for a moment or two, at which time I could feel the blood suddenly
leave my face, it must have turned a few lighter shades of pale,
as if my heart had sunk as well, I was for a moment terrified of
this face at which time th man's facial experession went from intense
anger and apparent frustration to a radically different facial
expression of truimphant glee and delight therein an evil and
psychotic sort of way, whereas this guy thought he now had me
buffallowed for sure, judging by what must have been the rather
intense look of terror on my face and th fear in my eye.

After those few seconds as we both stood there in speechless
silence, therein the Western Airlines boarding that night of March
30, 1979 surrounded by heavily armed serious men both good and evil,
I then managed to muster up a little of my inner resources and gave
this guy a look.

*****************************
Overlap text ABOVE from "1979--J4"

The gentleman who I was having a bit of a face-to-face showdown
with, was I think the man calling the shots, or in this case the
decision not to fire shots therein the Western Airlines boarding
area of Portland Intenational Airport on March 30, 1979.

The I saw looked to be about 5'-7" tall or so, looked to be
an American of northern European descent, with what looked like from
my angle to have been very sparse amounts of hair on top, an had
a fair complexion, and what I would say looked to be a rather
intelligent and ruthlessly cunning face which I had to somehow admire,
kind of like when Sherlock Holmes met the fiendishly evil Proffessor
Moriarity.

I now seem to recall that the man looked to be in his fifties,
of an average build for a man his age, and may have been wearing
some wire rimmed glasses, though I'm not certain on this point,
however this fellow did have an aire of authority and confidence
about him that strongly suggested he was the kind of person who as
used to commanding men and handling them very well in tricky an
delicate situations such as the one we were both thrust into together
at that precise moment, this dude was connected, at least in my
assessment of the gent at that time.

After the Holmes-Moriarity like face-off I then returned to
where Kendra was standing thereoff to one side of and on the perifery
of the Western Airlines boarding, near what I vaguely recal may
been a column or something like it at which time, fealing up the
game and now more sporting than ever I stood next to Kendra who
was facing the bank of payphones, pulled her close to me and then
said in her ear in low voice behind her full 1970's Hippie-Afro like
hair:

"Let's see if your father's phone works."

After that I immediately took Kendra by the arm and then escorted
her out of the Western Airlines boarding area, walked down the long
corridor fo the airport terminal and Kendra, as per my directions
then drove me directly over to her father's house which was only
a few miles away from Portland International Airport.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

 

I had been to Kendra's father's place few times before in recent
months, which I vaguely recall was most likely located in the
Southeast section of Portland somewhere on southeast 49th or possibly
48th Avenue, there between Division St. and Powell Blvd. to the south,
which is as near as I can tell after all these 20 plus years.

/////////////////
Research Note:
This place should not be to hard to verify the location

As I recall Kendra and I left the airport therein Kendra's VW
Bug, and as I sat next to her in the front passenger smoking a
cigarette, I kept an eye peeled for any kind trouble imaginable ahead,
and I repeatedly looked back to see if any cars were following us
from Portland International as we both headed south down NE 82nd
Avenue during those first few minutes after we left.

When Kendra turned off 82nd Ave. I recall that I greatly relieved
to be off of such a well travelled highway, and Kendra then took
I what I beleive was most likely took NE Glisan Ave. going west
to NE 50th Ave. and proceeded south thereon 50th into the Southeast
section of Portland, near Division St. going west and from there
to 49th or possibly 48th and as we drove south I recall the stands
of tall trees along what must have been th east side of the road
which continured until we reached Kenda's father's house.

Kendra's father's place was a small one story, woodframe house,
situated thereon a rather large lot about one third, to one half
acre, or possibly more in size, not knowing the precise boundaries
and all, and had a long unpaved driveway, about 120 or so feet long
going west to the small house. The driveway was all covered with
gravel, and due to the constantly rainy weather of Portland, had
quite a few chuckholes and dips in it which acted like speed bumps
as Kendra drove her "Bug" towards her father's house therein near
pitch like darkness, at about 7:00pm on March 30, 1979.

On the way over I told Kendra that I was going to telk her father
Ken just what I had told everyone else, except for Kendra and the
U.S. Secret Service whereas most any plausible lie is more believable
than than an implausible and highly unlikely sounding truth.

The cover story being in this case that my mother had just
suddenly become gravely ill and was hospitalized thereas the result
whereby it became immediatley imperative that fly home to Los Angeles
County and see her during this family crisis.

Kendra then parked the little VW Bug up close to the little
wood frame house, and we both walked up to the front door and Kendra
rang the doorbell, whereby her father Ken answered the door a bit
surprised and let us both inside his home.

Kendra's father seemed to in his usual reserved, but congenial
self, and had a kind laid back demeanor pretty typical for many a
blue collar type and construction worker, I had known over the years.
Kendra's father was a plumber by trade, a pretty well paid one by
his account.

I then gave Kendra's father the bulshit cover story regarding
the the bogus family emergency, that being my mother had just become
seriously ill and was taken to a hospital at which time Kendra's
father expressed his sympathies and hopes for her speedy recovery,
whereby I graciously accepted his condolences and kind words, at
which time Kendra then interjected and asked her father if I might
be permitted to use his phone to call a friend back home, who I could
then ask to pick me up from Los Angeles International Airport upon
my arrival there later that night and then drive me to my family.

Kendra's father reacted as most anyone would have in his
situation, after all I was at the time living with his daughter a
her fiance'and this was after all a family emergency, so he handed
me the phone right there in the livingroom of the small woodframe
and I started dailing away on the phone.

Whereas there was something pretty fishy about the way my sister
Ann had suuddenly pretended that the phone line was dead when I called
her up from the airport, some seconds before thta line actually did
go dead, and as I knew there was another separate phome line at the
home in my old neighborhood where Ann lived, I decided that I was
going call on someone who in the past was a rock solid friend and
someone that I knew I could count on, this was a surfer friend of
mine named John, who also lived in the old neighborhood.

I started talking to John and telling him that my Western
Airlines flight from Portland, Oregon to Los Angeles International
was due to arrive there at sometime around 10: 30 or 11:00 that
night.

During the long distance phone call to John, I then flashed
back how only some minutes earlier, I had been given the brush-off
by my sister Ann and how disheartened I was in a sense, followed
by GTE's long distance telephone call "Black Out" thereat the Western
Airlines terminal area of Portland International Airport, what
with all the Feds, Mob, on one side and the U.S. Secret and their
alllies on the other, and all that artillery they were all packing.

When I heard John's voice, and excitement and delight that I
was comimg home, it was one of, if not he most beautiful sound I
had ever heard in my life, whereby I must have realled the old saying;
"Family your born with, friend you make."

During my phone call to my friend back home in the old Covina
neighborhood, I wanted to tell him a bit about the "Showdown" scene
back thereat Western Airlines boarding area, and possibly a few other
things as well such as;
"Watch your back brother once you get to LAX."
however I then felt rather inhibited and pressed into silence by
what I then saw in the room.

What I saw in the room that so chilled my speech was the rather
peculiar manner in which both Kendra and her father were both standing
there literally transfixed by every word I said as I spoke into
the phone receiver, whereas both Kendra and her father were both
standing only a few feet away from me, watching me instensely, and
were literally hanging on to every word I spoke, that was only broken
Kendra an her father exchanged a number of quick and furtive and
fearfull glances between each other.

This latest revelation of Kendra and her father tripping out
on me as I used the phone, was really too much, after having just
went through that viciously bizarre and Kafkaesque like ordeal back
at the Western Airlines terminal at Portland International.

As the result of all this unwarranted attention in the form
of both Kendar and her dad breathing down my neck as I made that
long distance call from Portland to my friend John in Covina, I
decided to skip saying anything else about what was going on, whereby
it was agreed that when my flight got into Los Angeles International
Airport I was to telephone John, and he would drive over and pick
me up from LAX and put me up for a night at his place in Covina.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

After the long distance phone call I then hung up the telephone
receiver, and thanked Kendra's dad for letting me barge in unanounced
and permitting me to place the long distance call, and then Kendra's
dad walked to the front door, when I noticed a big
quart sized bottle Seagram's V.O. Whisky thereon a counter on the
way out, at which time I then told Kendra's father that right then
I could sure use a drink, whereby Kendra's dad Ken broke out a double
shot sized shot glass full fo V.O. which I tossed right down without
a chaser, afterwhich time Ken walked us both right out on the porch
and we both got into Kendra's VW, and she started th car right up.

As Kendra's dad left the porch and went back inside the front
Kendra had backed her VW Bug up so that her car was at a mostly
perpendicar to the length of the driveway and sonmewaht askew so
that both Kendra and I could both vaguely makeout the sillohettes
of the trees at the end of the driveway running into 4_th Ave. all
cloaked in darkness, and as I recall the porch light thereat the
front of Kendra's dad's house had just then went out just after
Kendar's father went back inside his house.

I think I must have lit up another Camel Light inside the car
and relished the smoke in a kind of celebratory relief at having
been able to break through the long-distance phone line "Black-Out"
thereon the GTE payphones at the Western Airlines terminal at Portland
International Airport, only 20 minutes or so earlier that night,
and was girding my loins so to speak, for my return to the same
Western Airline terminal, and the little crowd of well groomed men,
and all dressed to kill therewith weapons stashed in their expensively
tailored suits.

As I recall Kendra had not yet turned on her car headlights,
as she backed to the position in which the car was then at that moment
and for some reason it seemed a bit lighter outside in the still
rather dark night than when we had arrived, it's possible that the
moon had come up by then and that the clouds had pulled back a bit
whereby it seemed a just bit lighter.

good f that a bit e

t eithe
and Kendra was just about to put the
VW into first gear when suddenly we were both surprised to see the
headlights bouncing up and down from the chuckholes and dips as the
head lights race down the gravel and mud driveway towards Kendra's
dad little woodframe house.

ew
it in driveway Kendra holds off putting the VW Bug into first
gear as e are both amazed at the speedy arrival of this truck to
Kendras ' dads]'s ]place, my adrenaline was still up when I got to
Kendra's dad's place
after all the excitement
I just went through at th Western Airlines terminal.

Finally as the pick up truck, slowed to about 20 mph and into
the light of Porchlight I saw a man jump out of the drivers seat,
as the passenegre next to him slid into the driver's seat and grabbed
the steeriung wheel, like they wer a stunt diving team or something.

A spilt second later I saw the first driver then run right up
to the same front porch where Kendra and I, had only seconds before
said goodbye to Kendra's dad, thereunder the blazing semi-conventional
porch light which lit up the whole front side of the tiny one bedroom
house and a goodly portion of the driveway that ran next to and on
past the front porch on this oversized lot.

Meanwhile the replacement driver of the pick-up who grabbed
the steering wheel, had soemhow mangaed to bring the pick-up truck
to a screeching halt thereon the gravel drive a good distance well
past the house, and weere then going into reverse, whenI said;
"Who in the hell are those guys ?"

I was shocked when Kendra said. "Oh, they're some Cuban friends
of my das's." This rung bad vibe with me and I then said;
"Fuck man, let's get out of here."

Kendra then put the VW into first gear and we drove as fast as we
could back up the uneven gravel driveway with chuckholes up to 49th
? and then east on to up Division, and then north on 82nd and the
Airport.

 

On the way back to the airport I was tempted to ask Kendra what
or if there was anything she knew about the Cubans in the pick-up
truck, but the manner and the circumstances under which they arrived
seemed to speak louder than volumes could, as did the series of
extremely agitated and furtive glance betwixt Kendra and her father
and then me a I was making my long distance phone call to my friend
in Covina, John thereunder the intense scrutiny of the two therein
the livingroom of Kendra's dad's living room.

That being the situation on the way back to Portland
International Airport, there on that rather bizarre night of March
30, 1979, I decided that I would just keep focused on
keeping my cool and boarding my flight regardless as to how many
heavily armed scary dudes in suits were thereat the Western Airlines
boarding area glaring at me.

I must say this for Kendra she could have bailed out on the
situation at any time and dropped me off anywhere along the road,
but she didn't, was because she grew to like me, or was it because
if she did it might have further revealed that she was plugged into
those trying to railroad me and had orders not to.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

 

The trip to Kendra's Dad's place SE Portland somewhere
around Se 57th & Powell mehgwer
the call to my surfer friend

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued
A quick drink, a double-shot of V.O. from a bottle
Kendra's dad had.

Out the door into the VW, backed up and just turned around
when the pick-up truck come rip roaring down the long gravel driveway
it headlights bouncing up and down from the chuckholes in driveway
Kendra holds off putting the VW Bug into first gear as e are both
amazed at the speedy arrival of this truck to Kendras ' dads]'s ]-
place, my adrenaline was still up when I got to Kendra's dad's place
after all the excitement
I just went through at th Western Airlines terminal.

Finally as the pick up truck, slowed to about 20 mph and into
the light of Porchlight I saw a man jump out of the drivers seat,
as the passenegre next to him slid into the driver's seat and grabbed
the steeriung wheel, like they wer a stunt diving team or something.

A spilt second later I saw the first driver then run right up
to the same front porch where Kendra and I, had only seconds before
said goodbye to Kendra's dad, thereunder the blazing semi-conventional
porch light which lit up the whole front side of the tiny one bedroom
house and a goodly portion of the driveway that ran next to and on
past the front porch on this oversized lot.

Meanwhile the replacement driver of the pick-up who grabbed
the steering wheel, had soemhow mangaed to bring the pick-up truck
to a screeching halt thereon the gravel drive a good distance well
past the house, and weere then going into reverse, whenI said;
"Who in the hell are those guys ?"

I was shocked when Kendra said. "Oh, they're some Cuban friends
of my das's." This rung bad vibe with me and I then said;
"Fuck man, let's get out of here."

Kendra then put the VW into first gear and we drove as fast as we
could back up the uneven gravel driveway with chuckholes up to 49th
? and then east on to up Division, and then north on 82nd and the
Airport.

 

On the way back to the airport I was tempted to ask Kendra what
or if there was anything she knew about the Cubans in the pick-up
truck, but the manner and the circumstances under which they arrived
seemed to speak louder than volumes could so I just focused on
keeping my cool and boarding my fligt regardless as to how many scary
dudes in suits were thereat the Western Airlines boarding area
glaring at me.

 

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

VI
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Pt 12 Sub Part 6

'The Devil At Prayers' And One I Know Too ---

 

To Defuse The Bomb Carried On By In The Drugged First Late-Passenger --- Evidenced The Cops Sitting Next To Him Rifling Through The 'Druggie's' Clothes --- Apparently Defusing The Guy Wired To Blow --- Looks Real Whatever He's Doing To The Guy --

Sent

The Audacity And Symbolic Significance The 'Second' Late Passenger --- Means He Was

for LAX --Los Angeles.

Chapter 83. of "1979" --- March 30, 1979, Friday approx. 9:30 to 10:30 pm
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

What The F_ck Else Can It Be, But A Bomb?

The heavily drugged, late passenger with the leather valise strapped to his wrist --- assisted to his seat by a terrified Western Airlines Flight Attendant --- an hour late for take-off.

In light of the events earlier that night at the Western Airlines terminal at Portland International, the CIA-FBI-Mob milieu showdown with Secret Service & ?? to see that I got on my Friday night March 30, 1979 Western Airlines back to L.A.
Or in my case those other groups and individuals then present, and who sought to prevent my leaving Portland, Oregon, at least alive that is.

The long distance black out there, followed by the side trip to use a private residential phone line & all the weird stuff that followed, and this last weird-ass passenger, so doped-up, he can't find a seat to sit down in.

THE LATE PASSENGER WAS WIRED TO BLOW
OR WAS IT MERELY CIA PSY-OPS WARFARE:

LAST DITCH EFFORT TO SCARE ME OFF MY WESTERN DC-10 FLIGHT:

A DESPERATELY RUTHLESS BID HALT MY RETURN
KISSING KENDRA GOODBYE; BOARDING THE DC-10, SIGHS OF RELIEF SOME V.O.'S & SEVEN'S, AND CAMEL LIGHTS IN THE FLIGHT CABIN SEEMED LIKE HEAVEN AFTER THAT NIGHT, LET ALONE THE LAST WEEK I HAD JUST ENDURED.

THE WESTERN DC-10 FLIGHT DELAYED FROM FACE OF
A FEMALE WESTERN FLIGHT ATTENDANT WITH A LOOK OF
TERROR ALLOVER HER FACE AS SHE HAD TO WALK A SEMI COMTOSE MAN IN WORKING CLASS ATTIRE,
INCONGRUENTLY WEARING EXECUTIVE ATTACHE TIED TO HIS WRIST;

CONSIDERING THE EVENTS OF THE FEW HOURS, AND DAYS I COULD ONLY SURMISE THAT THE MAN WAS A HEAVILY DOSED "MIND-JOB" CARRYING A BOMB OR POSSIBLY, THOUGH LESS LIKELY WAS MADE TO APPEAR SO IN AN EFFORT TO FLUSH OUT OF THE STILL OPEN DOOR OF THE DC-10 FLIGHT CABIN,

Chapter 84. of "1979" --- March 30, 1979, Friday approx. 10:20 - 10:40 pm
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The Devil At Prayers ---And One I Know Too:

A second late passenger --- sent on board to defuse the bomb in the drugged first late-passenger's leather valise, Weirder still --- I recognize this second "late passenger" ---My old police science instructor from 1971 the L.A. Sheriff's Sergeant who was also CIA. --- The already "blown" agent from the incident in an elevator at the downtown Portland Hilton March 22, 1979

Unexpected Midnight-Stopover at SFO-'Frisco' prompt fears of an attempt to possibly remove or force me off my Western DC-10 Bound for LAX - Los Angeles, during this 40 minute plus airport layover.

A Second-Late Passenger Sent On Board sits down next to the First Late Passenger & Is --- Apparently to Defuse What May Be Safely Surmised to be a time or possibly altitude activated Bomb in the leather valise strapped to the wrist of the heavily drugged "first late passenger" --- the same and only passenger who was led to his seat and strapped in by a suddenly rather terrified Western Flight Attendant.

Weirder still --- I recognize this second
My old police science instructor from 1971 the L.A. Sheriff's Sergeant who was also CIA.

A brilliant choice in using the very agent whose "cover" was already "blown" agent from the incident in an elevator at the downtown Portland Hilton March 22, 1979 --- and who I had known from some 8 years earlier My old police science instructor from 1971 the L.A. Sheriff's Sergeant who was also CIA to come aboard, as covered in Chapter __. Of my book; "1979".

DEFUSING THE HEAVILY DRUGGED BOMBER BAGMAN:

OLD SCHOOL TIES USED TO CALL A TEMPORARY TRUCE:

AFTER SWEATING OUT THE NEXT 30 TO 40 MINUTES AT THE
PROSPECT OF BEING BLOWN TO BITS, 8 DAYS AFTER HIS COVER
WAS BLOWN AT THE HILTON OSTMAN RE-APPEARS, WALKS DOWN THE
AISLE WEARING A "WIRE", SITS DOWN NEXT TO THE MIND-JOB
AND STARTS ADJUSTING SOMETING ON THE MAN

THE WESTERN AIRLINES FLIGHT LAYOVER IN SAN FRANCISCO AND FINAL DESTINATION AT LAX;
BACK IN THE OLD NEIGHBORHOOD

It's The L.A. Sheriff's Dectective Who I That Have Taken Place Since

My old police science instructor from May 1971 ---the L.A. Sheriff's Sergeant who was also CIA ---

45 Minutes Waiting on the plane waiting for what I expected to be the explosion of the tail section --- the ploy an apparently a last ditch effort to scare me from my tailsection seat of the Western DC-10 jetliner a boarding ramp still attached and plainly visible through the open rear door on the left side of the plane --- the top of which I could see from my seat --- Yet Another late passenger ---- and one I recognize to --- It's the L.A. Sheriff's Detective Sergeant who was former college class instructor who hadn't seen in 8 years since May 1971 --- and who suddenly turned up there at the Portland Hilton disguised as an 'Otis' Elevator repairman's uniform only 8 days before --- thereby setting into motion that Three Mile Island nuclear meltdown chain of events which neccessitated the need for my immmediate departure from Portland and hence my Western Airlines flight to LAX Los Angeles in the first place ---

As I closely observed the cop coming down the aisle wearing a two-way radio earphone --- I was immediately awestruck and amazed at the shear fucking audacity and brillance of the move --- turning the tables on me so to speak --- what's more his very presence was a message in and of itself --- This meant they weren't going to blow-up my plane --- and became even more apparent when the undercover cop waliked over to where the first late passenger, the drugged-out dude with a brief case bomb --- and sits down next to him and there after started rifling through the drugged passeger's jacket --- presumably to start defusimg the bomb d fussing all ---

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued
After all of that intensely scary, and deadly serious business
therein the Western Airlines boarding area, followed by my half-sister
Ann's long distance telephonic desertion of me when I needed a family
member most, followed by the long distance phone
call black-out compliments of General Telephone therein the Western
Airlines boarding area terminal, followed by the little spur of moment
trip to Kendra's dad's place, her and her father's rather curious
alarm at my making the long distance phome call to my friend
in Covina, and then topped off by the rather bizarre jump out of
the still speeding truck of some Cuban friends of Kendra's as we
were leaving to return to Portland International so I could catch
my Western Airlines fligt to L.A. I was literally worn to a frazzle
and yet greatly relieved to know that I had finally got on board
my flight home.

Once inside the flight cabin I was then directed to my seat
in the coach area of the Western Airlines flight therein the tail
section which suited me whereas it was close to the galley where
the flight attendants kept the liquor and refreshments and where
I could be sure to get a refill when I wanted one, and which was
the place place where I thought it was the safest in the event
something should go wrong.

As I recall I sat down therein last aisle seat of the left
side of the tail section of the Western Airlines DC-10 passenger
jet, and lit up a Camel Light cigarette, and when the
flight attendant made the rounds I then ordered up a couple of "V.O.
& Sevens" (Whisky and Seven Up), and sat back waiting for the flight
back home to begin, and then tried to figure out just how I was going
to stay alive once the plane landed at LAX, was it possible thta
I might b grabbed and taken away before my friend John arrived
at LAX to pick me up and take home to th old neighborhood in Covina.
n from be

and what I was going to do about living in general, a place to stay,
a job and all of that

blong I had to stay alive r

t h r o therein hte eon th right side of
of xcv c c b eth i ds

case, there by a very terrified Western Airlines flight attendant

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued
One half hour to 45 minutes or possibly more of rolling the
dice whereby I hold out and refuse to walk out the open passenger
door of the flight cabin therein terror, I hang like Chang fuck 'em.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued
The second later boarding passenger, why it's my old college
Police Science Instructor, whose cover I blew only 8 days earlier
thereat the downtown Hilton working undercover, disguised thereas
an Otis Elevator repairman, thereby setting off this most recent
chain of events whereby I was then thereon that Western Airlines
DC-10 flight to L.A. (Gee if only the kids from my 1971 police science
class could see me now, I wonder what they would say about all this,
MAYBE I was entitled to some extra credit or something

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued
defusing the bagman bomber, aand then we take off
a truce is called beteween me and the devil

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued
The flight home to LA with a layover at San Francisco
International and the e Chapter 82. of "1979" ---

About 30 to possibly as long as 45 minutes after the first late
boarding was babied aboard, strapped in his seat, and the coach
section most conmspicupuly neglected by the Western Airlines flight
attendant, and the exit door left wide fucking open with the loading
ramp still attached there came a second late boarding passenger.

More than that, I immediately recognized this fucker but good,
why it was my old college Police Science Instructor who, until last
week on March 22, 1979, I had not seen for 8 years, since I passed
his class at Citrus College, in Glendora Californiain May of 1971.
If you have been following this factual account ypou will remeber
that it because I was out of Camel Lights cigarettes, that I had
broken the rules of Hilton and went into to guest lobby, grabbed
a pack of smokes, and then split back to work in a hotel guest
elavator, at which I busted Ostman thereat the Hilton and blew his
cover thereas an Otis Elevator repairman, thereby setting off this

most recent chain of events whereby I was then thereon that Western
Airlines DC-10 flight to L.A.

(Gee if only the kids from my 1971 police science class could see
me now, I wonder what they would say about all this, MAYBE I was
entitled to some extra credit or something.)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday, March 30, 1979 continued

When Ostman boarded the Western I literally jumped out my seat
but stayed there studying my old police science whose mind and cover
I had seriuously fucking blown only 8 days earlier, at the Portland
Hilton, and who now was used to blow my mind right fucking back it
was as ingenious, as it was totally unexpected by me I must say,
and mot of all, Ostman's very presence seemed to speak louder or
more articulately than any words could, he was there to call the
whole thing off.

When Ostman boarded the plane and walked down the aisle of the
flight cabin he was wearing casual attire, strikingly similar to
the first late boarding and semi-comatose passenger, except that
his jacket was a lighter color and he may have been wearing slacks
as well, what's more Ostman had an earpiece stuck in his ear to which
a wire was attached, that led to his pocket whereby to look at him
anyone in the late 1970's would have assumed Ostman was wearing an
ordinary earpiece plugged into an ordinary 1960's style transistor
radio, listening to a ballgame or radio show.

I would have to say that Ostman was wearing a two way radio
and that the earpiece was for recieving, whilst there was another
wire and mike for talking.

What really out the icing on the cake was when Ostman sat right
down next to the first late passeger, the guy who was semi-comatose,
with the expensive looking attache' case and who I surmised to have
been a kind of mind-control suicide bomber, like those used in the
middle-east and elsewhere around the globe, however when I spotted
Ostman at the end of the aisle I knew already that th whole bomb
scare scam was beinmg called off, as plainly evidenced by his presence
on the plane. Ostman was cool he never let his eyes meet mine not
fpor one second, as he did in the elevator at the Hilton.

I studied Ostman as he sat down right next to the comatose guy
with attache' case who I surmised to have been a bomber bagman an
watched my old police science instructor and CIA recruiter at work.
He first started talking into the semi-comatose passenger's ear,
and there after started fussing around with something inside the
dude's shirt for a minute or two and then sat back in his seat at
which time I said "Fuck man I need a drink.", and looke around fpr
a flight attendent.

Finally at sometime around 10:00 pm or so, possibly later the
Western Airlines passenger took off and we had a pretty uneventfull
flight after that, however I was alarmed for a bit when the plane
made a quick half hour layover at San Francisco International and
I was afraid that I might get muscled off the plane right there and
dealt with most severely, however as thisngs turned the plane took
off and we landed there at LAX about 45 minutes later.

I called my friend John in Covina, waited about 45 minutes or
so ad spent the night there ewas baflr the e

 

 

 

VII
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Pt 12 Sub Part 7

An Unscheduled Landing At 'SFO' San Franciso --- Prompts Fears That I Might Grabbed Off The Plane --- My Overdue "Red-eye" arrival at LAX Los Angeles Via Western Airlines Sometime Around 2:00 March 31st 1979 --- My Ride Back To Covina With Freinds --- Sis's Lie Blaming Her Long Distance 'Hang Up' The Night Before --- To Problems With The Phone Lines

An Unscheduled Layover at San Franciso International Airport sometime around midnight renews my paranoia that I might be taken off the Western Airlines DC-10 --- Take off and My "Red-eye" arrival at LAX Los Angeles --- My call to Covina, and a wait for the arrival of my friend & his wife to pick me up from the airpirt sometime around 3:00 am March 31st 1979

Prior to L.A. --- presumably by agents from the FBI in 'Frisko' feild office --- were this the case it's probable that the local office of U.S. Secret Service kept them in check l Friday March 30, 1979 Morning pre-dawn L.A. Sheriff’s gang-raids in West Covina , Baldwin Park and the vicinity --- hours prior to my return from Portland, to L.A. --- and the street that I grew-up on with a Covina mailing address --- This

 

 

Gathering News, 'Putting-Out' 'The Word', In Anticipation Of My Arrival There Later That Night --- Showdown At The Old --- More Like A Scene From "The Godfather" --- Intel & CIA 'Spooks' Square Off With --- U.S. Secret Service --- Phone Black Outs Bomb Threat On My Western DC-10 --- A Long Distance 'Black Out' --- A Quick Trip To Use A Private Telephone, The Frenzied Arrival Of 'Dad's' 'Cuban Friends' As We Depart For The Airport --- A 'Demonically' Devised Bomb Threat To Scare Me Off My Western DC-10 Flight Bound For L.A. --- Calling Their Bluff But Afraid They'll Blow The Plane, Passengers And All --- A Bizarre Reprieve --- A Scary Unscheduled Stopover At 'SFO' 'Frisko' --- My 'Red Eye' Arrival At LAX Los Angeles March 31st 1979

 

March 30th assassination of Parliament Member Airey Neave In London, The 1st 'hit' on a Brit 'MP' since the year 1812 --- This conducted simultaneously with episodically timed 'Gang Sweeps' in the West Covina and other towns near Covina where I grew up

The 'Gang Raids' --- apparently conducted by the CIA & FBI, using a federally funded L.A.Sheriff's 'Gang Task Force' as cover to gather 'Intel' from 'snitches' & 'informants' --- to ask around as to who I might have contacted by long-distance regarding my scheduled arrival there later that night of March 30th --- and also serves CIA damage control purposes by giving informants directives to put the word out on me as being 'paranoid' & delusional --- should I make it out of Portland alive and return back to Covina.

The marathon like, non-stop, media hyped Three Mile nuclear disaster serves as a, diversionary CIA Media 'Psy-Ops' tool --- cleverly contrived to drown out any rumors of assassination plots In Portland --- 'Showdown' At The Old 'Western Airlines' boarding terminal at Portland International --- my long distance call back to a half-sister in Covina, whose glad to hear from at first --- but gets a call on another line with orders to hang-up on me, so she pretends she can't hear me all of the sudden then hangs up --- This followed by the GTE ( Now Verizon ) long Distance Phone 'Black-Out' at the Western Airlines --- My 'ESP' like discovery of the CIA 'Spook' in charge there and a scary-ass face off.

My decision to circumvent the long distance black-out by making a quick trip to Kendra's dad's to use his phone --- both alarmingly intense as they stand close to me, listening to every word and scrutinizing me as I talk to a friend back home in Covina asking him to pick me up at LAX once I arrive --- A Shot Of Dad's V.O. & Out The Door --- The Jump Out A Speeding Truck, Frenzied Arrival Of Dad's Cuban Freind's --- Our Car Lights Still Off --- Having Just Started The Car And Backed For The Drive Back To Portland Airport --- Girlfriend Considers Giving Me Up To Them --- I Make Ready To Shove Her Out Of The Car and Drive Myself There --- As We Both Know What The Other Is Up To --- She's Drives The Car To The Airport Instead

A 'Maltese Falcon' Like Kiss Goodbye From Girlfriend At The Portland Airport --- Boarding My 8:30 Flight Western Airlines Flight Bound For LAX Los Angeles --- 'Camel Light's & Celebratory 'V.O. & 7's In The Tail Section Where I'm Seated

A Fiendishly Clever Bomb Threat To Scare Me Off My Western DC-10 Flight ---The First Late Passenger --- With A Drugged Breif Case Bomb Sent On Board To Scare Of The DC-10 --- Kissing My Ass Goodbye As I've Had It Once Off The Plane --- Bar's Closed As The Terrified Stewardess Disappears --- A Second Late Passenger My Old Police Science Instructor from 1971 Who Turned Up At The Portland Hilton Where I Worked only Days Before On March 22nd --- Touching off The Explosively Dangerous Situation I Now Found Myself In, Quite Literarly In Fact --- What With The Drugged Heavily Drugged Passenger Practically Carried To His Seat By An Attendant --- My Realization That This 2nd Late Passenger Cop I've Knew Back In 1971 --- Was There To Defuse The Bomb --- As Move Across The Aisle To Spy The Cop Sitting Next To The Drug Breifcase Bomb Passenger --- And Who Then Rummages Through The Jacket & Shirt Of The Drug And Totally Compliant First Late Passsenger

 

 

A Bizarre Defusing & Two Hour Late Take-off --- A Scary Unscheduled Stop At SFO San Francisco --- Flying Back L.A. With The Bomber Bagman & The L.A. Cop I Know Sent On Board To Defuse Him --- The Same L.A. Cop Who I Accidentally Discovered At The Portland Hilton March 22nd --- Touching Off The Explosive Events of The

The Ironic Twist Of My Surfer Freind & His Wife To Drive Me Back To Covina --- The Same Surfer Who Drove Me & My Travel Partner To The Freeway To Start Off My Journey To Northern Cal Four & A Half Years Earlier In August '74

A 'Spooky' Interview At U.S. Secret Service --- Start of The 3 Mile Nuke Disaster 12 Hours Later --- Feds & Sheriffs Raid My Local Haunts Back Home In L.A. --- Assassination Of A Parliament Member & Radiation Leaks At Three Mile Make The News --- Showdown At The Old Western Airlines 'Corral' --- Relative Cuts Me Off On The Phone --- An Airport Long Distance Phone Blackout --- ESP Like 'Face Off' With The Head CIA 'Spook'

 

 

 

--- Packing & Getting It Up For Girlfreind In Spite of My Paranoia --- Hassles At The Hilton Getting My Paycheck --- Showdown At The Old Western Airlines Corral --- The Long Distance Phone ‘Blackout’ There --- A Trip To Girlfriend's Dad's To Use His Phone --- The Frenzied Arrival His Cuban Freinds As Leave For The Airport

---A Second Late Passenger To Call Off The Threat & Defuse The Bomb Strapped To The First --- A terrified Western DC-10 flight crew Makes An Unscheduled Stopover at SFO San Francisco--- My Pre-Dawn Arrival at LAX Los Angeles March 31st1979 --- Electronic Surveillance, Suspicion & Paranoia Follow Me Where Ever I Go --- Daily Reports Of A Near Nuclear Meltdown Dominates The Nightly News

 

--- And Also To Have Informants Disseminate False That I'm Paranoid & Delusional to discredit me upon My Return, Just in Case I Get Out Of Portland Alive --- Showdowns, Throwdowns

 

--- 'Sis' Gets The Word & Hangs-up --- An Airport Long Distance 'Black Out' --- 'Freaky Friday' ESP Like Intuition results in a Face-Off With The CIA 'Spook' In Charge --- Desperate To Have Someone I Know & Trust Meet Me At LAX, I talk girlfriend into driving me over to her dad's place near the airport --- Weirdly revealing Situation at Girlfriend dad's as I break through the airport long distance black-out --- on dad's residential phone to ask a surfer freind of mine to pick me up at LAX

--- As They Hang On Every Word I Speak --- They Can't Talk To Each Other without 'tipping their hands' in front of me Either My Freind --- I can't say shit because their right next to me watching & listening like thieves --- Cutting short the call I see a large bottle of V.O. Whisky in a hutch near the entry way, ask for & receive a double-shot --- Backs in the car girlfreind backs up & turns round her VW with the lights still out, to start up the long, muddy, dark & bumpy road to the highway --- The wildly insane arrival of Pick-up truck's headlights bouncing as they speed towards us and Girlfriend's dad's house --- As the trucks carreens towards the house the driver opens his door leaps out and runs up to the front door and pounds on it --- Prompting a terrified "Who in the fuck is that ??" from me --- to which Girlfriend informed were some Cuban friends of her Dad's --- I tell her to split & step-on-it which she does --- Return to much emptier, kinder & gentler Western Airlines Terminal at Portland International for a Goodbye kiss & Boarding My Flight --- Tremendous relief over the situation over double V.O. Whisky & Sevens, smoking & waiting for take-off --- My flight attendent goes from cheerfull waitress --- to terrified hostage as she half-carries an apparently, Drugged & Semi-comatose Late Passenger --- carrying a conspicuously expensive looking Briefcase some how strapped to his wrist --- to a seat in the tail section near me !!! --- In light of the events that had that had taken place just that night --- let alone the last nine days and all the rest of it going back years --- I could only conclude that this late passenger was had a bomb in the breifcase --- The idea presumbly being to either scare-me out the door of jet plane & down the enclosed boarding ramp still attached --- Or very possibly go ahead and have let the guy blow the plane-up to murder me --- without making it look like I'm the target, just the victim of random violence from some 'lone nut' kook

--- Smoking, I recall and start to reason out the events --- my conclusion being of the that that if these guys can scare me off this Western Airlines flight back to LAX tonight --- there's a pretty good chance I'll never live to be able to do it again --- judging by all they virtually 'pulled out all the stops' here tonight --- and worse yet these clowns will probably work me over --- partly to find out what I know and who if anyone I may have taliked to

'Fuck it, if I gotta' go it may as well be here and now, rather than who knows what." I opt to 'Buckeroo Banzai' and ride out what might or quite might not possibly be a bluff --- I figured it was 3 to 1 odds that I was as good a dead --- but where there's life, there hope was

For Most of an hour waiting to die any at any given second --- almost as bad the flight attendent, apparently told to stay clear of the tailsection in anticipation of the blast --- was nowhere to be seen, so no 'last call' for alcohol

'Defusing' --- An Unscheduled Stopover at SFO 'Frisko' Renew Fears I Might Be Taken Off My Flight --- My Long Delayed Flight Becomes a 'Red Eye' Arrival At LAX --- My 'Surfer' Friend Comes Out To Drive Me Back To Covina

Click Here For Part 13 Of --- "1979"

 

Please click the blue web-links below to go to any page in this website
Synopsis of My Book "1979"

Website Page: Index

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6 --- Part 7

Part 8 --- Part 9 --- Part 10 --- Part 11 --- Part 12 --- Part 13 --- Epilogue