One day, on assignment, I was standing at the top of a very tall set of four or five tiers of marble stairs. President Reagan walked out of a room below and paused a moment before he looked up and saw me. Quickly he put his finger to his lips and I knew that meant to keep quiet. He motioned for me to come downstairs and meet him outside. I promptly looked away from him so I wouldn't be publicly noticed or connected with him, and started walking. Once outside, a Secret Service agent directed me toward a limo and as I got close he took hold of my head and pushed me inside. I was waiting when Reagan arrived. He stepped in backwards so no one from the outside would be able to see me. After the door was shut, he smiled and kissed me and said that he had missed me. He said he needed me to go with him to the Pentagon to introduce me to some friends of his.
There I was exposed to file after file of small typed information and was introduced to an officer who had on a dark blue uniform with gold trim that looked like a Navy uniform. Reagan instructed this man to show me information that was top-secret. This was information I needed to have in my mind files for some upcoming meeting. Then Reagan left. I followed this man to his office and watched while he opened his file drawer, took out some files and laid them open on his desk. He left me with them and went out of the room, locking the door behind him, locking me inside. I was in his office for quite some time and went over four files in detail. I couldn't remember the details when I was deprogramming the documents to read them to you now. The officer kept checking on me and when I was through he escorted me to a waiting limo. Reagan wasn't there.
"Once in the White House always in the White House, I know my own way upstairs!" Bob programmed me to say to Presidents.
When I said that to Reagan he said he didn't find that amusing. I told him, "Well Bob said for me to say that."
Reagan immediately softened up, laughed and said, "You tell that ole' buzzard I said hello."
Once you are on the list "to do the White House" they keep using you over and over if your Boss man agrees.
During September of 1984 or 1986, Craig and I went to Cozumel on a scuba diving vacation with a group of dental friends. A day and a half of the trip was reserved for Reagan. The men in suits came for me in the middle of the night. It often happened that way, where they just appeared in the room and took me away. They said they had come to "prepare me," which I knew meant torture and isolation, to be readied for my time with Reagan. I was put into a cement utility room. It was dark except for the pilot light from a hot water heater located in the corner. That was the only light until daylight. I was stripped naked and left in the cold cement room all night alone. The men opened the door every so often and used electro-shock on me, by putting a prod on my hips. My body contorted and convulsed, and my hands involuntarily rose uncontrollably into the air. Then, I collapsed into a heap on the floor and they told me to keep standing, not to sit down or go to sleep. They checked in on me every so often, to see if I sat down or had fallen asleep, and if I had, they zapped me again with high voltage, and even if I hadn't they would zap me. Either way, I got it.
If I had to go to the bathroom, I went in a corner and then they would slap me for that. The men in suits were brutal. Slapping me, shinning bright lights in my eyes, shocking my body… it was sheer torture. They injected my arm with some drug and I slumped over. One of them covered me up with a sheet and carried me to a black car, and the next thing I knew I woke up in a hotel room where I was told to shower, wash my hair and dress in the clothes they left for me.
When I finished dressing, they took me to a dimly lit restaurant where Reagan was sitting in a candlelit booth, already eating. It was late and there weren't any other people in the restaurant. Reagan smiled and took my left hand activating my touch program as he squeezed it. He winked at me as he continued eating. I just sat with him, with the Secret Service waiting behind him, while he ate. I was very out of it, and was having trouble focusing to keep myself together. My inner system of personalities was programmed to never make a mistake in regard to which personality was "presenting." I was forewarned by my controllers that if this ever happened it would be a fatal mistake and I was programmed to keep my inner personality system in check by an internal oversight committee that decided who was to be out in a split second snap of the fingers. It wasn't that I was switched to the wrong personality for this event; I think, at that moment, I was just physically incapable of performing.
Reagan said, "You look beautiful as always." I smiled shyly and he lifted his hand up, brushed my hair off my shoulder and pushed on the side of my neck. I felt like my eyes rolled out of my head. He looked to the Secret Service agents and said that he didn't think I was "quite ready.»
The Secret Service agents took me outside into the ocean air and walked me around a bit and then took me back to him. They said, "Perform!" and I sat down, this time more alert, bubbly and talkative!
Finished eating by now, Reagan took my hand again and said, "Let's get out of here." We walked through the kitchen and out the back door, with Secret Service agents before and after us, into a waiting limo. I asked him where Nancy was and he said, "She's home where she belongs!" He pulled my legs up over his lap as we drove away and said, "You're in for a real treat tonight."
It was late at night when we pulled up in front of a big white hotel. We went in quickly, after a Secret Service agent checked to make sure the lobby was clear. Reagan and I went hand-in-hand to the elevator up to the second floor. We followed the agent down the hall and waited as he stopped in front of a room, while two other agents guarded Reagan outside. There was a balcony off the room, and we could hear the surf. It wasn't the plushest of rooms, but it was nice.
Reagan took off the white summer coat I'd been given to wear and sat next to me on the bed. He started talking to me as he undid the back of my dress. He undressed me this time, revealing the sheer white lacy bra, panties and white nylons I had been given to wear.
Reagan was aggressive this night. This was not typical behavior for him, as he was usually so passive. He pushed me back onto the bed and kissed me eagerly while I began undressing him, one button at a time. He was in a hurry and very passionate. I was surprised at how different he was. He nibbled my ear, rubbed my navel to access touch programming, and I performed oral sex. While he lay on his back, I climbed on top of him to bring him to orgasm. Soon I lay down next to him, and we dozed off to sleep.
A few hours later, a Secret Service agent woke me up and put his finger to his lips to keep me quiet so I wouldn't wake up the President. The agent grabbed my clothes and shoes and took me to another room to dress. They put me into a dark sedan and took me back to my hotel, the El Presidente.
The next morning I woke up next to my husband in our hotel room, as if from a nap, feeling really strange, very tired, and out of it, but with no trace of memory of my time with Reagan. That evening my husband and I went to dinner with our friends and I was unable to think or do much more than eat my dinner and smile occasionally at someone as they spoke at the table. I did manage to stay awake through dinner but couldn't wait to go to sleep. The next morning I woke exhausted and feeling ill, but didn't know why. Waking weary and worn out was such a common occurrence for me and I had no way of knowing why I was really tired. I just figured that being tired, dazed, and feeling ungrounded was the way I was born. I never was able to think past that thought in order to penetrate the amnestic barrier, until much later.
I was used on Catalina Island, for sexual rendezvous with Reagan and sometimes other public officials or entertainers. If Nancy didn't accompany Reagan to Catalina, it usually meant my use with him was for sex. She accompanied him at times when business affairs were at hand and other people were present for meetings. If Ronnie would touch me on the hand or look at me, she would get upset. Quietly and off to the side, he would tell me not to worry my pretty little head about her. I was programmed to have sex with Reagan at the Wrigley Mansion, the Zane Grey and other hotels on the island. It seems Reagan was usually on the island anonymously; for security purposes, no one was to know he was there.
There were usually two Secret Service agents who escorted me to my assignment. We often walked to our destination on the island when it was only a short distance. They directed me where to go and stayed behind me so that it would not appear that they were with me. An agent delivered me to the hotel room to wait for Reagan. Reagan preferred for me to wait for him naked, but he told me each time how he wanted me to be the next time and I did as instructed.
The agents who delivered me were always waiting right outside with the other agents when it was time to go. Then, they delivered me back to my hotel room.
When I looked at Reagan's body when he was naked he had a white flabby stomach and buttocks, not fat, just flabby and old looking. When I was scheduled to be with him, I was preinstructed to put on five strategically located sprays of Oscar de la Renta perfume — one spray on each side of my neck, one on each wrist and one in between my legs. He was very sensory oriented and my body had to be super clean. He often told me he liked how I smelled.
Reagan literally lay on his back the whole time we were having sex and had me do him. It was always one-on-one with him, usually quiet and sedate. No violence, no intensity. He liked for me to rub his back and then help him on with his pajamas. At this point in the evening, I often felt like I was pampering and putting a child to bed, despite the fact that he was 40 years older than I was! He made sure everything was comfy and in place. It was fairly routine, never much variation.
One night at the Wrigley Mansion, Reagan wanted me to pretend like I was forcing him to have sex with me. After the game, he put the stun gun to the small of my back. I never knew when it was coming with him because he would smile and all of a sudden I'd get zapped. Then I passed out, just sort of fainted over on him and he would catch me and direct my body over next to him, and then he would turn away and go to sleep, but his body was still touching me.
Sometimes the stun gun was placed at the base of my skull. Different places for different reasons. In the forehead it was meant to erase the mind file just used.
Over the years, I suffered from chronic pelvic pain and sharp stabbing pains that shot up through my vagina and rectum. I went to the doctor in an attempt to alleviate the cause, but by 1984 it was decided that a total hysterectomy was the only cure for my pain. I was 33 years old. After the surgery, the pain did lessen, but wasn't completely gone. At that time I was still unaware that I had been abused but when I began to have flashbacks and memories of the extreme sexual abuse that I had endured my whole life, the pain lessened. Once my hidden past was brought to conscious awareness, I healed and the pain went away for good.
I had to maneuver through lots of fairy tale programming like the following in order to gain access into memory of experiences when I was used as a mind file for Henry Kissinger at secret meetings. There was a fairy tale about a beautiful redwood forest, but it wasn't real, it was only fantasy. It had beautiful giant trees with red bark and it was in the mountains. There was a beautiful fairy princess who visited there and she was allowed to because she had special connections to the forest animals. She made friends with the great owl who watched over her and kept her safe. He alerted her if there were any problems because he was so big and so wise. He looked big to her because she had taken the magic mushrooms just like Alice in the Looking Glass and she couldn't tell if he was really big or she was just very tiny, but he could watch out for her.
This fairy tale was intended to cover and scramble the real memory of a men's camp of sorts in the California redwoods. There was a wooden box mounted on a tree with a special phone inside that the group of men who met there could call from. Henry needed me there to assist him with data. After the meetings during the day he would layer in the fairy tales at night in an attempt to scramble my memory.
Kissinger also met with George Bush at a place outdoors in the mountains that was like a men's camp. There was a large wooden building that they used for meetings. They slept in smaller sleeping cabins. I slept in a separate screened-in cabin and Henry put me into a mode to stay there and not leave until he came to get me. Henry met with George Bush when he was Vice President, more than he did with Reagan, who was President. This was because Henry and George had more in common on this particular endeavor and worked hand-in-hand on the project.
Then Vice-President Bush, Kissinger, and a White House correspondent met to decide what the White House Correspondent was going to put out through the media to the public to insure success of their plans. Henry always had his strategies and accomplished a lot behind the scenes by working through and directing other politicians or people connected to the White House.
At another meeting, Henry and George accessed my geographic locations file and gained access to information about certain foreign countries. They would pick perfect strategic locations to start wars and/or disputes they wanted in order to distract the American people and others about what they were really doing in an area. I would rattle off information about an area, describing it's climate, terrain, ocean access, mountain access, etc., and I would keep going on with information until they heard a location that would work for their plans. Then they would say STOP and I would stop. Meetings took place there often.
During Reagan's administration, Henry Kissinger and George Bush used me often in a mind file capacity. When Bush became President, my job didn't change — only the person holding the office of President did. One day Henry and I were at the White House and he shook hands with Vice-President George Bush. I was there for mind file use. They were talking about the IranContra situation and Henry was telling George what to say publicly to cover their tracks. He had a lengthy conversation with Bush, telling him "key phrases" to say when asked certain questions so they could keep their stories straight.
George didn't like Henry smoking his cigar inside, but Henry smoked anyway. I guess Bush needed Henry's help so bad that he didn't press the cigar issue any further. Henry filled my mind files with information to bring back to the Governor of California, who I believe at the time was Governor Deukmajian. We sat in wooden chairs with leather seats in front of Bush's desk. The floor in the room was wooden, with a large throw rug over it. There was an American flag to our left — to Bush's right. Bush took his glasses on and off when he got upset or nervous.
Dinners held to entertain important foreign leaders or politicians from our own country often involved Henry Kissinger. He was not one to be social, but attended these dinners out of duty. If I was to target an individual in attendance, I often went with Henry. I was «strategically» seated next to him as well as the person they were trying to monitor or influence. Henry always briefed me beforehand in regard to things that were important to a foreign leader or a certain Senator or Congressmen. I would say sentences that had been implanted in my head to draw them out and get them talking. Sometimes I was given little white pills to drop in their wineglasses to "help them loosen up a little," is what Henry would say.
At these dinners, the President would clink his glass with a fork or spoon and propose a toast to the honored guest. All the presidents did it. Tapping of the wineglass was a means to call me to attention; most often it was a time when a very specific code was introduced to set me up for what I was to do the rest of the evening. After they clinked the glass, I subconsciously received the directions carefully embedded in the toast. Although Henry was the mastermind and loaded me up with information for targeted people for the evening, the Presidents were always told that I was at their service for the evening when I was included at a dining arrangement. Henry really had his own agenda that I fulfilled within the evening, mingling with those persons he predirected me to. But he took the courtesy of letting the Presidents feel they were in charge of me, so my instructions were to listen with an ear to hear the coded instructions and file them in with the instructions Henry had given me for the evening. Although I didn't understand consciously what to do, the coded parts inside of me knew exactly what to do and what area within the personality structure would carry out the duty. The Presidents I worked with knew exactly who I was, and knew that as a robot, I needed direction while I was sitting at the dining table with the guests. They gave me direction in relation to foreign leaders and which to target and what information to go after. If there were two foreign dignitaries then I would be told what to do with each of them. Bush utilized me often like this to hunt out information or find where loyalties lay.
Some of the guests at different times were royalty from England, foreign ambassadors, and other leaders from around the world. They often had interpreters with them at dinner so they could communicate. Henry put key phrases in my mind files, created especially for them because my knowledge of foreign languages was limited, but later, sex usually bridged the language barrier.
I was told what to say when questioned. Sometimes I said I was working for the State Department. Some of the men must have been given prior permission to have me sexually because they would touch my leg under the table or slip their hand up my dress. These men thought they were being given a gift, but they were really being interrogated or seeded by a programmed operative who had been well trained to do just that sort of job interwoven with sex. Sometimes it was just quick sex in a back office and then they would go home with their wife, or sometimes me. When I was to spend the night with a guest, we were often limoed to a nearby hotel for the evening. This happened when the men in control wanted some serious information. At other times, my instructions were merely to sit next to a targeted guest, deliver preprogrammed messages and record in my mind files their responses, reactions, etc.
At times, Bob met and played golf with George Bush. "Once a machine always a machine," Bob said about me to Bush on the golf course in Palm Springs. Bush told Bob he acted like an old married couple with me. Bob laughed and said, "There's nothing old about her!" Bush didn't think it was so funny and just went on to the next hole in silence, followed by Secret Service agents.
George Bush knew all about my use as a human computer. He treated me very unkindly, like I wasn't human. One day, Henry and George got into a fierce argument over how George treated me. Henry said, "Would you go over to an expensive computer and kick it if it malfunctioned?" This was during Bush's Vice-Presidency when George accessed my files often and participated back and forth with Greenspan and Kissinger during that time. Henry said, "George if you're going to use the equipment you're going to have to learn to use it properly."
George said to Henry, "Hank, this young woman is nothing but a piece of equipment and if she continues to malfunction on me, I'll have to put a stop to her use." I sat blankly while they continued their argument.
George Bush was always mean, gruff and degrading. Overtime, he continually gave me brutal 'attitude adjustments. He knew just how to twist the knife psychologically and could get me 'back in line' quicker than anyone else, due to the fact that he had abused my daughter and could devastate me by reminding me of the brutal things he did to her. Or he would say, "I can read you like a book and don't ever forget it. If you ever get a notion in your head like this again your daughter will be motherless. Don't cross me again." He was always yelling at me. He also started this program about 'life. I had eaten LIFE cereal my whole life as part of a program, and he said to eat it and remember while I was eating it that, "only by going along with the program will you stay alive and continue your duties to your family and country." In programmed response, I ate LIFE cereal all the time, even carrying little snack bags of it around with me if I felt scared or threatened. Bush also had my children play the game of LIFE with me and reminded us, "Spin the dial and see what life has to offer." George would remind us to remember whenever we played, "if you get off track, you will loose not only your own life, but the precious lives of those traveling with you, your children." (Or, in my children's case, "your mother or father.")
Henry was so busy perfecting and guarding his technology within me that, at the time, I experienced him as protecting me, since he personally wasn't violent with me. But I know now that he was very much a part of the group of people that hurt me and, in fact, had to have orchestrated a lot of my high-level abuse. At times Henry acted like a mad scientist, so pleased with his creation, yet lost to humanity.
Lots of drug transactions took place in the middle of crowds, such as in parades. I was involved in a big one in Mazatlan on Cinco de Mayo. We had just eaten dinner with Craig's family, aunt, uncle and cousin at the Shrimp Bucket restaurant. They had a lot of alcohol to drink and Craig's aunt took me into the restroom and passed some drugs off to me and told me to put the bag inside my dress. I was wearing a peach colored cotton sundress and I did what she said but didn't like to put the package in my panties like she told me to because it made me look pregnant or fat. Soon, we all left the restaurant and stepped out into the street where a festive Cinco de Mayo parade was in full swing. As we entered the huge crowd of people dancing and marching in the street, we moved along helplessly sandwiched in between the crowd. Craig kept laughing hysterically and smashed confetti eggs in my hair. I was terrified because nothing felt real, and the loud noises and all the people jammed close together frightened me. A man with dark skin, wearing white cotton pants, shirt and straw hat grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the crowd, down a dark side street. He pulled me through what at first looked like a doorway into an old abandoned building but as we made our way to the back, I was escorted into a room that was restored and decorated. A group of men were sitting around a table with a low hanging lamp, smoking and playing cards. "Here she is," my guide announced.
Another dark-skinned man came over to me. I think they called him Johnny T. He patted my stomach and said, "What do we have here? A gold mine?" He pulled up my dress and removed the package. In front of all the other men, he set his cigar down, pulled off his belt, unzipped his pants, let them fall to the floor, stepped out of them and said to his comrades, "This is what I've waited all night for." And he pulled me to the ground and raped me in front of the group. When he was through with me he opened the package I had delivered and said, "Tell the United States government, we thank them for their gifts, for their generosity, and tell them we like the way they do business," everyone laughed as he continued, "and that we will continue to hold up our end of the bargain." Another man took me out to a waiting car and I was delivered back to Craig's uncle.
George Bush was often a part of the illegal drug activity in Mexico. It felt as if he followed me and my family around on our vacations; no matter where we went, he and "the boys," showed up. I realize now our vacation spots really revolved around our controller's agenda but in those days I had no way of knowing that. It seemed like Reagan was just a puppet and Bush made all the arrangements, did the thinking, planning and carrying out of the deals. At meetings and social gatherings, Bush made the connections and cut the deal while Reagan just acted oblivious — which is not to say he didn't know or wasn't aware, he just wasn't ever the mastermind. Bush was ruthless and brutal; the end justified the means. He even had a red handkerchief he kept in his pocket for wiping blood off of Kelly or me. He had high expectations and often expected us to do things that he had inadvertently forgotten to tell us, at which point Kelly or I got slapped, beaten, or dealt with in other torturous ways. There was a time on Maui when a Secret Service agent came to my aid saying to Bush, "Sir, I don't think you told her that." That was the end of his job; Bush fired him on the spot. One day Bush took a pocketknife out of his pants pocket and I was terrified that he would use it on me, but instead he used it to cut the skin off a green apple. He told me I'd be next to have my skin cut off in the same slow, torturous manner if I didn't cooperate.
I saw the Mexican leaders more frequently at the White House than in Mexico; they were usually brutal and violent.
Craig's Uncle Lyle Curran, who worked for NASA, specially arranged for us to purchase a timeshare; the Presidential Suite, at the El Cid Hotel, in Mazatlan. My husband purchased the use of this suite, for the same week in April, every year for the next 25 years. My family and I always thought we were going there for a vacation. But that was never what occurred. On one such vacation, a man in a suit met Kelly and I just after we had bought our 'strawberry banana smoothies' at the hotel shake stand. Later I discovered that these drinks, although very healthy, were programming cues that were installed at an earlier time when we were taken to the Santa Monica Pier and put on the Carousel Ride. A man put both of us on the horses and told us, "tied together, you are one." There was other mirror programming and suggestions that created confusion over where I started or ended physically, and Kelly began or ended. There were to be no separate identities.
Anyway, we had on our bikinis and this suited man followed us over the bridged overpass that led to the Presidential Suite. As we went into the room he slipped in behind us. He told us to sit down on the bed. He put earphones on both of us, and injected our forearms. Kelly sat with one leg folded under her, in half Indian style position. We were body programmed and different body positions meant different things. George Bush arrived, dressed in a tan suit, and Kelly was «prepared» for him. Bush, a couple of Mexican leaders, and one other man had a meeting in our suite. I sat next to Bush at the meeting while he accessed my mind files. When the meeting was over George waited until everyone left the room, shook their hands politely at the door and when they were gone he went into the bedroom where Kelly was waiting. I sat robotically at the table.
Awhile later, when Kelly came out of the room, she had a smile on her face. Per programmed conditioning, she always wore a smile but she didn't look good to me. Bush left with two Secret Service agents that were parked outside the door to the suite. One of them called him, "Geo."
Another time Henry Kissinger was sitting with George Bush at a meeting that took place at the large dining table in our Presidential Suite at El Cid with two Mexican men. I was there to be used in mind file capacity. There were other such meetings that took place at our family timeshare, at El Cid, in the "Presidential Suite."
"Honesty is the first chapter of the book of wisdom."