Saturday, February 28, 2015

Playing Doctor

     Well, I was blessed by a visit from the CPS this week. That's where I've been, by the way, for all those  of you with inquiring minds who thought I had died. That was Spock that died, I'm fine. Anyway, one of the twins took a swing at the other twin and the school went into full NSA overdrive. Rather than taking the five year old to the clinic the teacher secreted the kid in some remote portion of the school house and called the CPS. We were hit at two-thirty in the morning, I Crappith thee NOT! 

     "Ding Dong," the doorbell went and since we never answer the door at that time of the morning, I simply waited until the patrol car pulled away and called the police station whereupon I was informed that the caller was a "well check" requested by the CPS. (This is my surprised face!) Naturally, the whole house was up by that time, and having had many precious encounters with the department before, the kids were riled up pretty good. 

     Now, for the novice out there let me explain how this works. First off public schools are revolving doors for CPS "product." Teachers pick a child they want, wait for a scratch, or bruise, and call the ever vigilant hot line to place their order, I mean report an injury. There is no such thing as a common sense factor in this. If said child bumped his butt on the school slide and got a bruise, full investigation up to and including drug testing of parents, and questions about pedophilia. In this case I was alone at the house the next evening when they showed up. Kinda like I planned this, huh? Actually I had an evil scheme . You see, the last time we went through this they sent this hot little blonde out ALONE, so, you see? Well, this time let's just say it was NOT a hot little blonde, and she brought Evander Holyfield with her! Curses! Foiled again! 

     I was polite and broke all my own rules letting the man and woman right in. I can say they were honest about the issue. Slight bruise on a twin's chin, and the other twin had confessed. You'd think the whole thing would end right there. Au Contraire. Five kids, five WHITE kids with blue eyes, all eight and under, that's a lot of money on the table there. We had to take pictures, LOTS of pictures. Fortunately everything was in order. I was expecting a young lady so the house was perfect. 

     I'll never get used to how untrained CPS workers are. They show up at a house, after dark, to possibly take children away from the family, get invited in by an old man who looks like Brigham Young, and just sit down like they've got good sense. For those of you who follow my tweets you know this was the night I was treating a sore throat with Jim Beam, and, of course I'm Packing. God bless the second amendment! So, for those of you who don't like people defending themselves I will let you know that we all had a nice chat, shook hands, and the two workers left without any holes in them. 

     Oh, I'm sorry, the investigation? As I write this the assailed twin is at the clinic. Seems the "bruise" was a shadow caused by the mumps. Yeah, remember those? When the teacher by passed the REGISTERED NURSE in the clinic this entire comedy of errors commenced from a case of mumps! Oh, it'll drag out. Like I said, that's a lot of money on the table. Speaking of money let's see what this cluster screw cost YOU Mr. and Mrs. Taxpayer. Hmmmm, fully staffed, twenty-four seven call center in Austin, at Austin rates, one investigator, one guy with the investigator, car, gas, cell phone, police officer, secretary and appropriate staff down at the office to type all this up. The full physicals and psyche evals of five children you didn't pay for, WE paid for that, because when we get into one of these things we like to use LICENSED doctors NOT on the take from the CPS. Oh, and we footed the bill for the health department coming out and giving the house a clean bill of health, and the thirty five dollars for the fire department to tap all the fire extinguishers with that little rubber hammer they have. All because some school ma'arm decided to stop teaching reading, writing, and rithmatic, and chose to play Doctor! Hey, maybe I can get that teacher to come out, I mean, she likes to play doctor so much.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

iJackie



I don’t often write about Jackie, in fact I try not to dwell on her too much.  It’s just too painful. Also, I know that by hammering on your own case over and over makes you a bore, and you’re not going to win anything by doing that anyway. I’m doing this article to fill in some blanks for my friends at RER, and I’m going to be frank. 

Jacquiline Brandt Witt is (was) my daughter in law, married to my son, Timothy. More than that she was my daughter. Jackie was born in Nashville Tennessee in 1989. Her father, John, moved his family to Detroit following the Rap scene. John was an engineer/producer. Jackie grew up sleeping in her father’s studio. Over the years she would visit us here in Texas, or we would go see her. I remember one time in Nashville when I was going to Shoney’s to eat breakfast and I took a three year old Jackie with me one Sunday morning.  When I asked her what she wanted she replied, “All the eggs int he world.” Seventeen years later, at an iHop in Georgetown she winked at me and repeated that order. 

When she was seventeen years old she became pregnant out of wedlock. Her father took her to Dallas to live with his sister, but in short order Jackie was at odds with the strict Lutheran family there so John brought her to Berry Creek. Berry Creek is an exclusive golf course community in Georgetown, just north of Austin. Jackie was a dream! She was the perfect house guest. My wife, Pam, said she was the most perfect daughter we could ever have. Jackie had an issue, however. During her stay in Dallas she had apparently made an agreement to give up her child at birth. Surrounded by friends, and safety she now relented, and after we assured her that she and the child would be safe she wanted to live in Berry Creek and raise her daughter, who would be named Lydia Rose. I would like to add, the people who wanted the unborn child were not evil people. They had never agreed with John’s lifestyle and thought they were doing what was best for the child. I’ve never faulted them for their beliefs, and we remain in contact till this day. 

We approached lawyers and asked if we could get Jackie emancipated under Texas law, but were told that she was so close to having her child the legal process would out run the birth, and of course, the family in Dallas would use their paperwork to secure the baby before that could happen. A plan was arrived at. Timothy was in prison at the time. He knew Jackie, grew up with her, and told us that if we arranged a proxy marriage that would make Jackie a married woman and secure their child at birth. That was the route we took.

We were quite surprised when Timothy made parole the very next month! Seems since he now had a “family” that weighed in his favor. Tim had lots of issues, mainly drugs, but in our crazy minds we thought that with the advent of Jackie, and the baby, perhaps he’d walk a straighter line. What can I say? We made a mistake. The week before Timothy’s release Jackie was making bottles, changing diapers and making videos on YouTube. She had dubbed herself “iJackie” and made films about young single mother copes with life. The night before we went to Huntsville to pick him up Jackie and I were making a film, but she wasn’t into it. I asked what was wrong, and she told me Timothy worried her.  After I assured her that things would work out she said, “Dad, I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. I don’t want to lose it.” Those words have haunted me ever since. Jackie proved herself to be a prophet!  It took Timothy less than a month to destroy that happiness. Jackie made a mistake, too. With her Nashville/Detroit background she believed she could corral Tim and keep his nose to the grindstone. He demanded that his “wife” move out of Berry Creek and live in an apartment with him. Naturally, the drug pushers appeared and Tim was right back on the rock again, living a lawless life, up to and including jumping parole. 

Jackie left and returned to Detroit, but came back when faced with the studio atmosphere. In one film she makes the statement, “I made myself forget. I never told you about those things because I made myself forget!” She really tried to make her marriage work! She had known Timothy since she could remember, and once told me, “My husband is so hot! I can’t believe he has time for something like me!” Right about this time our son, Bobby died. He was twenty nine years old and had sever health problems, but his death had a profound effect on all of us, including Jackie. She went with her husband, still on the run, and ended up living from one place to another. Tim was assisted in hiding from the law by friends, who, of course, cut all of us out, and that separation included the kids, which were four by now. When it all came crashing down Jackie came back to Berry Creek, with the CPS in hot pursuit. 

Because of Bobby’s death, my wife and I had actually trained to become foster parents. Not in the traditional sense, we had an idea of dressing up the big house on the tenth green to provide temporary accommodations for children pulled out of their homes, needing a layover until a solution could be found. In our ignorance we believed the solution would almost always be reunification. When Jackie came home we notified our associates in the CPS, telling them where the children were and they came out. Actually, it was easy. They had already approved the home and the only problem was, so long as we had the four we could have no more because they said the home was full and could easily accommodate that number. They took Jackie to the porch to interview her and upon coming back into the house the added one more stipulation. They didn’t want her in the home. 

They reasoned that since Jackie had willingly stayed with Tim during his run from the law  that she was an enabler, and they were right. Jackie was enamored with her husband and would capitulate to him at any time. She went that very night to a friend’s house in nearby Florence. We, as a family, began to work toward putting the family back together. The CPS was all over us on a daily basis, but that didn’t bother us. Our main house (there were four) was a copy of Elivis’ Graceland. Winding staircase, huge picture windows with views of the golf course,  a theater, three living areas, five bedrooms and associated baths. The children all had their own areas and played in the yard. They were all “golden” members of the Berry Creek Country Club with unlimited golf privileges, which meant they got to ride in golf carts. Jackie could have regular “supervised” visits. 

Jackie began to change. It was one thing having to put up with Timothy, and eating breakfast at the Berry Creek Country Club, and it was quite another living with Timothy and expecting him to provide anything other than a “rock.” Although Jackie never tested positive for any drugs, her loss of weight, her attention span, and her attitude told us that she had slipped over to the dark side. The huge mental assault proved to be too much for the little girl from Detroit, and after being assaulted, and confined to the Austin State Hospital she began to wise up. If you want to see graphic images of this just look at the first clip of the above video. This was taken a few days after Jackie’s return from living with her husband, and look at all the other clips. It’s like two different people. Tim called the CPS daily with all sorts of complaints about our treatment of “his” children, believing in his crack-headed mind that he would labor the CPS into giving his kids back. They finally removed them from our home and placed them with an “Aunt” in Waco. About this time Jackie got out of the mental hospital and lo and behold, she, Tim and all the kids wound up in California! 

Due to threats of kidnapping and other things the family came back to Austin. The CPS seized the children at the airport and gave them to a foster mother. Though he never confided in me Alex Jones made a statement in a video called, “The Day Alex Jones Cried,” where he said, “They seize our kids at the airport to give them to the pedophile government, we have such a sick society!“ The CPS allowed my wife to see them at their office with “supervised” visits, but very quickly cut me out. They told my wife that if she would divorce me that she could adopt the kids. I fought this, but after Lydia went into a diabetic coma, near death, and little Bobby had to get eight stitches in his head, I, myself, drew up the divorce papers and represented both me and my wife in court. The CPS was so adamantly against me that they said I could not even see my wife to hand her the final paperwork. I had to leave it under a sugar shaker in the Monument Cafe in Georgetown and she would come in and pick them up after I left. 

She moved out of the main house and took up residence in Killeen, some fifty miles away, in one of our other homes. My now “ex” gave up her real estate brokerage, her homes, her marriage, and her health, in order to save those babies! At this time, Jackie was trying, yet again, to make a life with Tim. He was spinning yarns about a “ranch” somewhere, but in reality was living in a travel trailer on a friend’s land. At night the crack smoke was so thick that Jackie took to sleeping outside in a buffalo robe in order to breathe. She was pregnant with “New Baby,” by this time. When William (that’s New Baby’s real name) was born the CPS snatched him from the bed! My now ex had paperwork in order and took him away from them right there in the parking lot of the hospital and lawyers attached William to the existing adoptions. The only thing Jackie was good at was having babies, and she became pregnant again. She went to Dallas to live with the aunt who she had problems with years before, but this time she had to make it work. So it was church, tractor pulls, and Sunday dinners for ol’ Jackie Jo! 

I saw Jackie the last time at Berry Creek. She’d come down for a quick visit because my co-producer, Lance was in town for the summer and wanted to make an “iJackie” with her. They made the movie, “Gypsies.” We took one last ride on the golf course and I told her that I didn’t know where she was up in Dallas, but go back there. This place was no good for her. A very aged, mature Jaquiline looked me in the eye and said, “You got that right!” 

I went to California for a while, and Jackie melted into Dallas/Fort Worth. After several assaults by the CPS, in an effort to take the babies, my ex, and her new husband, Joe, bought a home in Brigham City, Utah. Believe it or not, our family has healed. Pam has the five. They are Lydia, now renamed Karrie Anne (Puck), Bobby, renamed Justin (Just a Bobby) the twins, Chris and Nick (known as the “Sumos”) and Steven Michael (New Baby.) With the New Baby CPS said that in no way could he be named after me and that all family ties to the Witt family must be destroyed, so he was renamed Steven Michael (my Catholic confirmation name!) Jackie nicknamed him “New Baby” because she was only allowed to know him for two hours. 

I will not defend Jackie’s actions. I will not say she was right in all of her decisions. Her story is not what motivates me in my actions concerning the CPS. It’s everything else! It’s 231 little dead Texans, it’s little Alex Hill, it’s the baby girl with duck tape around her face, it’s all the rape, sodomy, murder and abuse dished out by the Child Protective Services! It’s the abject human misery generated by a department dominated by Satanic, perverted, mongols, skirting the constitution, and human rights. It’s the tears of every mother who’s had her baby pulled from her arms in the middle of the night by a Godless animal, with the blessings of the state! That’s what motivates me! 

Jackie’s story is complex. There are many twists and turns. I could tell you that she is genius level. I could tell you she was the most brilliant video producer Lance had ever seen. I could tell you she was a wonderful cook, but none of that matters. She made mistakes, but let me ask you. Four babies taken out of a mansion, with caretakers, up to and including police officers, family, doctors (who were ignored by CPS), friends and no Timothy! Shouldn’t it have been time to letfamily take care of family? This is what we’ve lost, people. Family no longer matters. The stateowns our kids! 

We’ve all gone on with our lives. Jackie, herself, has moved on. The babies and my ex are safe in Utah. Timmy is the only one paying the Devil, and that is well and good because he should. Game over! The children do not remember Jackie, well, all but one. Jackie used to tell Puck she was her “Fairy Ballerina Princess.” During a video I did with Puck I asked what her name was, and she said, “Karrie Anne.” I asked if Anyone called her “Puck,” to which she replied, “My teacher doesn’t call me ‘Puck.’ My mommy calls me ‘Puck.” She called me a Fairy Ballerina Princess!” You see, CPS, you never know what’s waiting for you when you perpetuate evil. Wouldn’t you hate it if one day in the future Senator Puck convenes hearings on the Child Protective Services?

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Culpability


Please watch this video before reading this article:  


When our family became involved with the CPS we went through many changes. Like so many people we had this core belief that the Child Protective Services was basically a government department that in theory at least, was charged with the protection of children. The reality is so far beyond that it boggles the mind. When you begin to learn of the abuses of the system you really believe the stories are concocted by conspiracy nuts. Indeed, whenever someone loses their child to the CPS, friends and neighbors may express sympathy, but in the back of their minds they wonder just what did the parents do?  They must have done something!

Before my journey was over I was advocating the execution of CPS case workers under the Texas Law of Parties. This is a Texas Penal Code law that allows that anyone connected with a crime in any way should have culpability. Culpability is defined as the responsibility for a fault or wrongblame. Example: If I were to undertake robbing a bank, and brought a driver for the getaway car, and subsequently I kill a bank teller, the driver is help equal fault with me and there will  be two gurneys in Huntsville that night. How can a two year old little girl be murdered by a Foster Parent and the CPS Case Worker who put the child there in the first place not be culpable? 

This is a strong statement. This makes me look like a raving fanatic. This makes people construct elaborate scenarios, expound on the noble purpose of the Child Protection Industry, but culpability is still there! What is the life of a child worth? A couple of years ago I did an article called “The 243,” citing numbers from one of CPS’s own reports as to the number of dead or missing children who had been under their care during a certain period. I was told I had inflated the numbers. I was told my report was not “scientific.” It’s two years later. I got an email from a friend. He actually put in up on my wall on Facebook, complete with names and ages. Expanded? Not scientific? Try over seven hundred! 

It amazes me how good, decent people can see numbers like that and still go about their day as if all is fine. In Nazi Germany there were good, hard working people living within the smell of the ovens, and chose to ignore it. Today, when a police officer chokes a man to death on the streets of New York the crowds stand around afraid to speak because they know the wrath will turn on them should they speak up. Same thing here. “They won’t hurt my kids because certainly those people must have done something wrong, and I never would.” They are comfortable in that assumption, and friends, that’s exactly what it is, an assumption! The one deciding factor in the CPS quest for your children is the color of their skin, and eyes. That is a fact, ladies and gentlemen. 

A child is seven times more in danger of serious injury or death while under CPS “care” than if they’d been left with a parent mainlining heroin. That was reported in the New York Times so do tell me I “inflated” the number! My own grandson still has a scar over his left eye from the blow of a foster parent after he tried to save his sister (Puck) from dying from a diabetic dropout, a condition the CPS refused to acknowledge even over ruling doctors at Scott and White Hospital! Professional Foster Care is an industry that brings in millions by tendering children to pedophiles waiting eagerly for the child of their choice, picked from a menu. 

Extraordinary circumstances require extraordinary measures. Yes, I advocate capital punishment for CPS case workers found culpable with the death of a child. I don’t need a bunch of lawyers trying to explain their way around the commas in the penal code. I am still convinced that the first body bag that rolls out of Huntsville Penitentiary with “Miss Johnson” in it will send a very loud and clear message to the CPS, that will reverberate throughout Texas. Children’s lives MATTER! You kill one of our babies, and we will kill you back! We will rid the planet of your DNA! It’s coming, people. The grass roots movement is gaining momentum, and will catch up with the criminals within that evil system. I haven’t changed. My fervor has not abated. I wait for that body to roll out so I can look at the CPS director in the eye and say, “Now you’ve tasted my mutton. .  . how do you like it, huh?” I gave up my soul a long time ago. I pray to God to distribute what little part of heaven I ever had to little Alex Hill, and the hundreds just like her. I would be happy to burn in hell, so long as I burn beside a CPS caseworker.   

I hear about good CPS workers, and I always say that all Nazis did not work in concentration camps. Some had nice offices in Berlin and just counted the numbers. If there are any good CPS workers they need to heed my words because I’m not alone. We are legion, and some of us aren’t nice like me. Alex Hill’s blood cries out from the grave. Don’t let your apathy drown her voice out.