My husband was a welder and when we were first married he worked at the shipyards where he got hurt. One night, while working in the dark, he ran into a steel plate, hit his head, and was knocked unconscious. He sustained serious neck injuries and six months later his neck became very painful and shook uncontrollably. The diagnosis was torticollis of the neck. He was in so much pain that he would try anything the doctors suggested; such as shock treatments, being injected with typhoid fever, endless experimental drugs, brain surgery and many other medical interventions.
When he was 45 years old he was told by a doctor that he only had five years to live. He wanted to be sure his young family would be taken care of so he bought all the life insurance he could get.
In the meantime, he quit the shipyards and opened his own welding shop. My youngest son loved welding and became very good at it. My oldest son went to college and graduated as a geologist. Eventually, though, they both worked at the welding shop. They fought constantly. It was driving my husband nuts. He got up one morning and was acting like a crazy man. He said he was going to the shop and fire one of them, he didn't know which. I was scared and devastated. I begged and pleaded with him but I could not reason with him. He came home later and told me he had fired the older son. I was surprised that he hadn't fired the youngest son. He had always nagged him and verbally abused him.
A few weeks later my husband asked me for a tape recorder. He said he wanted to make a tape for his oldest son. I helped him get it ready and left the room. A short time later when I looked in on him, he was holding the tape recorder and crying. Later, I found out he had said that he had to fire the oldest boy because the younger son held something over him. The older son asked if it was business and my husband said, "No, personal."
Our son asked, "What was it Pop, did you have an affair?"
"Much worse," my husband answered.
Years later, he went to his deathbed carrying the secret. The thought that it might be incest, child pornography or any of these other horrors never crossed my mind.
My two sons are estranged. I've tried many times since 1974 to talk to my sons, to get them to at least talk to one another, but to no avail. The younger boy was willing but the older one said, "No way." It hurt me so bad for so long I thought I would go crazy. One night I said to God in my prayers, "God, I can't handle this, you take over."
In 1967, my husband had brain surgery to stop the pain and shaking in his neck. They went down through the brain to sever the nerves that were causing the pain. It helped but he was in the hospital for a long time.
A few years later he had a heart attack and finally had open-heart surgery. There were complications. During the surgery he went without oxygen for four minutes. They said because he had brain surgery, his brain became swollen and he had edema of the brain. He was coma-like for 12 days. When he came out of it he was like a vegetable, didn't know any of us. He was helpless, couldn't feed himself, go to the bathroom or walk. After months of physical therapy he was able to walk and could pick up food with his hand. His memory was partially blocked. This deficit impaired his whole left side. He never regained all of his memory. I took him home and took care of him.
My daughter stopped by one day, which was not unusual, as she lived down the street. She asked if she could talk to me. She said she had something to tell me so we went outside and sat on the swing in the back yard. She told me her father had sexually abused her. I was shocked, stunned, sad, and couldn't believe what I was hearing. She also said, "You and grandma also abused me."
I started crying and thought, "Where was I?" I had no memory of any of this happening. I finally said to her, "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that I can't remember." But I was so naive when I got married right out of High School. I thought we were a normal, happy family and this accusation shocked me to the roots. I thought and thought but could not remember a thing. I do remember often saying when the kids were little that life seemed to good to be true.
Later she told me that I had abused all three of her children. I couldn't believe that I had done that, as I love those children like my own. I was heartsick and kept praying it was not true. She gave me a booklet from Los Angeles Women's Task Force on Ritual Abuse, and wouldn't let me see her children anymore. I could hardly function. I was heartsick, like in a trance.
As my daughter told me more about the abuse, I tried so hard to remember, but couldn't. In going over her allegations and remembering her childhood, I thought there were times the abuse could have happened. But she appeared to be a normal, happy little girl. She was such a good little girl, obedient, loving and just a little angel.
Sometime in the late 80's my daughter told me her father had sexually molested her from the time she was a baby. After Sue continued to tell me more, I began to believe her and that this really happened. I could hardly stand to look at my husband or take care of him any longer but he was a sick old, helpless man so I continued to care for him, every second hating him. But no matter what happened, he never complained.
Shortly after this she came to confront her father. She told him he had sexually abused her. He had a very hard, angry look as he looked at me and said, "Your daughter is crazy." She left and we didn't see her for a very long time. I would call but she wouldn't answer the phone or talk to me.
My husband continued to be a very sick man and had to be taken care of. From then on, I only spoke to him when I had to. To think he had abused our daughter made me hate him. I had loved him for over 50 years. Now I couldn't even let him touch me at night. If he happened to put his leg or arm across me, I'd kick him.
After my daughter's two accidents that both happened on April 12th, two years apart, my daughter disappeared. I didn't know where she was. I was so afraid for her. She had not spoken to me for many months. It was like losing my arm. We were, I thought, so close and now she wanted nothing to do with me. I felt like it was a dream or a terrible nightmare that I'd wake up from in the morning and it wouldn't be true. I was so worried about her. Without talking and praying to God, I never would have gotten through that separation from her.
I felt like I was going crazy, so I went to a therapist. The therapist did not seem to be helping me. After Sue fled from California, she called me and told me she was running for her life. One day I told my therapist that I had sent Sue money to help her write the book she explained she was needing to write to stay alive. The therapist surprised me when she said emphatically, "Don't give her any more money."
I told this therapist, "God told me to help my daughter." That's when I stopped going to her. Sue was my daughter and my heart said to help her. In spite of the abuse allegations, her father kept saying to me, "Help her, Honey. Help her."
I continued caring for my husband; he was helpless and couldn't do anything for himself. I gritted my teeth and helped him, all the while hating him. He never mentioned the abuse again.
I got a call one day from my daughter. I was elated to hear from her. She was in Hawaii and she wanted me to know that she was going to be hit by this hurricane and didn't know what would happen to her. Later on the news, they showed the island of Kauai damage from Hurricane Inniki. It was in ruins. I tried to call her but all lines of communication were down. Finally after a few days, she called to say she was alright, but lost everything she had.
When she came back to the states she called and told me more about her abuse. I was so confused but even though I could not remember anything, I began to believe it was all true. She moved from place to place to stay alive and finally called and said she was safe, but wouldn't tell me where she was. I felt so relieved that she was safe and getting help.
Then her teenage daughter started having problems. Without any apparent reason, she tried to commit suicide three separate times. She is such a sweet, loving girl. I could hardly let myself think of her being sexually abused. And if I had abused her, I shouldn't be allowed to live. We talked but my granddaughter couldn't seem to tell me why she had made those attempts. She finally decided to go live with her mother. She had only three months of school here in California until she graduated. We thought she could finish her school there. She was okay for awhile with her mother and then she started being dysfunctional and finally became catatonic. My daughter was frantic. She couldn't handle her, as Sue is much smaller in stature and not as physically strong as my granddaughter is. She called and told me she was taking her to the hospital. She didn't know what else to do.
My granddaughter was in the hospital a very short time when somehow she was able to call her father. She told him she was being held against her will and would he please come get her. He did fly there and get her. But, instead of taking her to their home where she thought she would be going, he explained to her that she needed help and he was taking her to a halfway house, a place that other teenagers who needed help lived. She shared a room with a teenage girl who also had problems. They had a lot of rules. She began functioning, taking care of herself, and doing her chores. She often just went to bed and slept. I started picking her up on Sundays. We would eat, shop, or take a ride. She was always so happy to see me. I called her almost every day; she would call me, too, not for anything in particular, just to talk. I asked her one time how she felt when she thought she was going home with her dad and found out she was really going to a halfway house. She said she felt abandoned.
Her mother suggested that EEG Biofeedback might help her, so every Thursday, I'd pick her up and take her. She loved frozen yogurt so we'd always stop for that. We'd talk and she always said she hated where she was living. She was able to finish her high school course. They taught her how to take the bus, so one day she enrolled at Pierce Junior College to take a psychology class. She had only 10 days to finish the class when she called her Mom and said she couldn't stand it there at the home anymore. Together my daughter and I got her a ticket, that was a Saturday and she was to leave on Monday. Saturday night her father picked her up and tried to talk her out of going, but she stood firm and said she was going. She was so scared to go alone. She kept saying, "What if I can't find the gate I'm suppose to go to?"
I told her to go to the counter and tell them, "I need help." I called the day of her flight to be sure the shuttle had picked her up. I prayed all day that God would watch over her and keep her safe. She arrived safely and my daughter was there to meet her and take her home. She was okay for awhile then started staring off again as if she were in a trance and didn't seem aware of anything going on around her. I feel so helpless, I want to help her but I don't know how.
Her brothers and I went for a visit with her and her mother. She would be fine one minute and then she would start staring and not talking, then she'd be okay again.
When I think about my granddaughter and all she is going through I can hardly bear it. Such a waste of a young, loving, life and what a horrible thing that she has to suffer and go through all the pain. These are things that should not happen to anyone.
My daughter is now healed and is doing everything she can to help and heal her daughter. I pray constantly that my granddaughter can be healed and lead a normal life. I am so proud of both of them.
My husband was a man who had been severely physically, sexually, and verbally abused as a child. I loved him and trusted him. He was so loving and sweet sometimes and other times he would be so nasty and mean. He was like two different people. I know now he suffered from Multiple Personality Disorder.
He dearly loved his family. He was very proud of his two sons and dearly loved his little girl. I was not aware at the time that he was sexually abusing our daughter.
By 1990 I was physically unable to take care of him. He was in a wheelchair and had to be lifted many times during the day. I found a nice board and care for him and, although I hadn't seen my oldest son in years, I called and asked if he would come and morally support me while I told my husband about the move. He said, "Okay, what have I got to lose." He came and explained to his dad how I couldn't physically take care of him and had found a nice place for him.
My husband said, "Okay, if that's what you want to do with me."
At that time I was seeing all of my kids, but always separately. I couldn't speak about any of them to the one I was seeing. It was hell. When I would call my oldest son's wife, she was very cool. Finally she called and started questioning me about Sue's sexual abuse. I told her, "I don't remember anything, but I believe her."
She said, "How could you believe your daughter and still take care of your husband?"
I was shocked. I told her he was a sick, old, helpless man, what did she want me to do with him? She called later and asked how I could see my younger son after all the things he had done and I told her, "I guess I have unconditional love for my children."
Her reply was, "Not me, my kids have to earn my love and they have."
After that my oldest son and daughter-in-law wanted nothing more to do with me. I was not to call, send birthday cards or presents of any kind. I once asked my oldest son if he had forgiven his father for firing him. He said, "In my head I have, but in my heart I haven't."
My husband died alone in a rest home in April of 1996.
I notified my children. The only thing the oldest boy said was, "I'm sorry to hear that." My husband was cremated and there was no service.
My family is ruined. Not one of my children speaks to the other. I have ten grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. I dream sometimes of us all sitting around the table on holidays and just enjoying each other and being a loving family, then I wake up to reality.
This generational sexual abuse and mind control has ruined this family. It breaks my heart as it seems I can't help to stop this, only by supporting my daughter. I pray for all my grandchildren's safety. Thank God, the truth about this abuse is finally coming out so other little children will be safe from it.
In the last three years, I have thought so much about my husband's abuse and have finally forgiven him. I hope he is at peace and looking down on us all, happy to see his daughter working so hard to end this abuse for so many children.
Bettie Eckhart
Sue's Mom
The pain and loss of family locked into the bondage of mind control is more excruciating than losing them to physical death. I miss my family more than they could ever imagine, in truth, more than I could have ever imagined. I will never be able to replace my husband, or the life I thought we were living. I just wished he had chosen to heal with me. Why didn't he? Or is it really, why couldn't he? Whatever it is or was, he didn't or couldn't, and so I have gone ahead and forged a path for freedom and sweet release for my children and myself, and have lighted a path for others if they choose. Perhaps my husband was never consciously able to know that we were programmed together and never really had a chance to comprehend who we really were independently or as a couple, but I feel sure that I knew his spirit. In truth, he was the most gentle, loving and giving man I have ever known. I know why my daughter is having so much trouble coming out of a catatonic state, because it is so painful to deal with the reality that the very ones that you love and that love you are the ones that are programmed to hurt you so much. That is the nature of the evil system that has kept so many under mind control bondage. But, the truth is that all of us were programmed by a source outside of ourselves, at birth; a time when none of us were able to change any of the horrendous circumstances we faced.
To have had this seemingly beautiful family and then to wake up to reality only to find that it wasn't beautiful, that instead our lives were interlaced with terror, abusive horrors, and atrocity; nothing was as it seemed. To wake and find that I wasn't safe, and then to retrieve the agonizing memories that led to discovering that my children were not safe, was harrowing. And then to deal with the fact that my husband, the father of my children, was programmed to drug, rape and deliver us, was as painful, if not more painful than my father doing the same to me. I find myself curled into a fetal position on the floor more nights than I care to think about, crying out in desperation and in a pain that never seems to go away, a pain that really never lessens. The pain is a great burden and yet I find that to carry it is to feel what is real. And, with that, I feel the great love and strength that has carried me this far.
Like my daughter, I want my family back. I want the love that we all thought was there. I want everyone healed. I want especially for my children to be freed and released. If I had to give my life for that, I would indeed feel that it was spent wisely. I pray daily that God will carry me to make whatever contribution I can, and that He will light the path for my children's freedom. Indeed, for the freedom of all those who suffer.
I have never felt so uncertain about the future. I have given up the hope that any of the wrong's will be righted overnight. I never could have left, in my attempt to save my life and heal in order to get help for my family, had I known that it would have taken this many years and that my family would still not be free. Still under mind control, and not yet recovered enough to have the full memories that made the picture of our high level slavery more complete, I naively thought that I could get my children out of danger and into safety and healing much quicker. I never thought that it would take this many years to ignite public intervention and outcry — and then to have my sweet, loving, gentle daughter Kelly left in a completely dysfunctional state, and my two sons in total disbelief and unable to hear anything I have to say to point their way to safety and freedom, due to their own programming.
I will never again tell survivors that I live in peace and contentment, because I don't. I have been given the Grace of God that allows me to live in a somewhat dissociated state of mind with the painful reality of all that has happened in the background as I presently live a somewhat successful life. But it doesn't stop the pain. There are times when I want to pretend none of this is real, I want to escape into dissociation, right along with Kelly. I miss her. I miss Craig, I miss Kevin and Danny. God, I miss them all! Please God, use me in my brokenness to help others not have to hurt this much.
I must be very dangerous to the architects of this evil system and my high level controllers. For I am a woman who loves God and her family more than life itself, and will not bow down to fear. In many ways I am fearless for I have nothing left to loose. Everything precious to me has been taken away. Every bond that was sacred, has been tainted, and broken. Birth, life, marriage, children; family relationships of father, mother, brother, husband, son, daughter, all tainted and destroyed. All that was before lies in ruins. Total and complete ruins. And what remains in the future is in your hands. For I have laid down the burden. I have spent the past 14 years communicating what happened to me to as many persons possible. I am tired and spent and the future depends on humanity's decisions and actions. I pray for the release of the many. I pray for the release to be timely. I pray for the release to be gentle and full of grace, love, and ease, instead of through pain and suffering. I love God and I am grateful for His leading. I pray for strength in the face of what God has planned for my life, that I might fulfill my purpose.
Writing this manuscript has been so excruciatingly painful, that I found myself wandering the house looking for some undone chore to take me away from facing the full ramification of the experiences that bring me to this writing; somewhere, anywhere to escape to. The pain is so deep, so present, and so pervasive. My heart aches for the love lost, for the suffering endured, for the souls locked in bondage. Many nights I cry until the tears won't come any longer. Just when I feel like I couldn't possibly cry another moment, another wave of grief strikes and I hold my body, in an attempt to survive the aftermath of emotional pain. If it were not for Jesus, I could not have endured. For He has put this appointment before me. When I was a child, and the torture that often took me near death was too much to bear, Jesus sent His angels to minister to me, to gently and lovingly guide me back to my body, so I could be here now to tell you what has happened, so it can stop. And when as an adult I reached a point in my spiritual healing that I could begin to put the terror associated with Him, created from satanic ritual abuse, aside, the Master Himself began appearing before me, leading me, guiding me, and interceding when I was totally alone and in need. Believe me, Jesus is alive today. The Great Healer can heal anything, everything, we only need to ask. And now we must join together to stop this sinister agenda so the children won't have to suffer any longer and so humanity can be assured of life free of mind control. Jesus has asked me to ask you to help. Please help me to help the others. They are so worthy and have suffered so much. More than anyone I know they deserve a gigantic measure of Christ love. Recently, as I watched the movie, Schindler's List, I could relate to his frantic desperation and hard work to rescue and save the lives of as many Jewish people as he could, finally selling his last possessions to do so. This man realized the precious value of a soul. Jesus calls us to give to those who are in need. Most victims of mind control and ritual abuse who are trying to break free, are forced to live in stark poverty and degradation; physically, emotionally and spiritually. They need safety from further abuse and shelter from the cold; they need blankets, food and clothing. They need nurturing touch and love, EEG Neurofeedback, therapy with informed clinicians, body therapies, natural healthcare, and they need skilled and compassionate people to listen to their pain in order to heal the wounds and scars from the past. Please help in whatever ways you can.
Susan Ford
"The things that are impossible with man are possible with God."
"For with God nothing is ever impossible, and no word from God shall be without power or impossible offulfillment."