Tag: smalltown

Mugged at Firebaugh

I need public to know that YES I WAS TAKEN TO the town of FIREBAUGH, California as a child and told to help those people. What transpired is that I was MUGGED and I have a feeling they created someone to replace me in society. I looked like one of THEIR OWN people for a while. Maybe long term, I don’t know. I was NEVER a real Mexican or agriculture worker. I do not know if it was a man, woman or child. When I was first told about this IN PERSON, at that town… it looked like they thought I was wealthy and wanted my money. That is not what it was. Someone wanted to leave that town and trade places with me elsewhere. Someone in Chula Vista, CA may have instigated this. I was taken there many times also in my youth and some pretended I was from there. I was not. It is VERY POSSIBLE my identity was already so stolen, I was NOT THE PROPER PERSON to kidnap to Firebaugh to “trade places with”.

Firebaugh, California, USA

What people may not understand is… someone, maybe many… “GOT PROGRAMMED” that I am a Firebaugh person… and I AM NOT. I may have “gotten attached” to them though. Things like this CAN BE DONE POLITELY. It didn’t feel polite, however I do not know what all was going on back then. I was actually very young.

I have a feeling… still… that someone IMPORTANT in Hollywood got mrdrd and to hide it happened, they were swapping all kinds of people around. (early 1970s) It may be why they gave me to Firebaugh… so they could LEARN I was not one of the wealthy, not someone in competition in Hollywood, not really.

Part of this is part of a greater mystery I may never understand or know fully. I may not need to. Just please be aware a lot of things have happened in my life and I likely have swapped with big and small people in a variety of places over time. And I didn’t know what was really going on.

The Small Town Soap Box

fictional mini story

There in the middle of a small town square of a few hundred people… was a very practical wooden box about a meter square or three feet at every dimension. Every Friday afternoon before everyone went home for dinner one person stood on the box and spoke of the week’s currents. Another may stand up on it and give some advice, yet another may tell a short story or some jokes and that’s it every week. Who gets to stand on the soapbox? Well it could be the same people, or the whole town could take turns. What if the whole town did take turns and certain people were “always unavailable” when it was their turn?

One day a youth went looking for an older woman who was never taking her turn. He went to her home on the outskirts of town and knocked on the door. “Ma’am? Why haven’t you taken your turn on the box during my whole life? No one even wants to talk about you.”

The old woman was slow to begin then replied, “I stood on the soapbox for an hour in my youth. I was shaking from injuries and malnutrition and told the story about the sister town twenty miles away that was raided and burned to the ground. This town doesn’t even want to look at me because it reminds them of what happened.”