Yes, he is “that guy”. That guy who is the repeater (not reporter) & sounding board of the Honorable David Morgan’s personal & professional agendas. He’s that guy who sold his soul to Sir David for his mistress, Sena Maddison to have a non-deserved and poorly done job at the ECSO. He is the guy when questioned on why he did not bring up valid points in the Billings case indicating and linking corrupt officials to extend a narrative to national press that got on the offense with no answer as to what he sold his journalist integrity for. This is the guy who tells the NY Times about his dogged dedication to finding “the truth” while he sits complacently by & watches a false narrative be sold as the truth. This is the guy who talks about the certainty of David Craig’s role in the cover up of the murders of Byrd & Melainie Billings, while he cannot justify his inability to bring it to life, causing at least 3 people to be in jail for murders they could not have committed—one on Death Row. He is
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So when my brother made that call the Monday after Mother’s Day in 2012 and told me that Joe Aaron was my father, he proceeded to tell me that my Uncle Mike had killed Joe in Pine Valley in 1983. This is when all the pieces fell into place. The man in the truck that Sunday morning attempted to kidnap me. The sneaking around different safe houses in California, the bodyguards. This was Joe.
My uncle had talked about one of his bodyguards killing someone; that was Joe? My mind started racing and recalling all the weird events of my life and seeing everything through the truth rather than rose colored glasses. Despite my brother telling me about my biological dad and with all the secrets out in the open, he resumed his silence. He dropped this bomb on me and walked away. I had so many questions and everyone is dead. How could he leave me with this information? He is my brother. When I needed him, he was gone. This broke my heart almost as much as finding out my entire life was a staged event with everyone being the wiser but me. I simply could not wrap my mind around this?
Just as suddenly as we were whisked into chaos, we were returned to our normality with very little fanfare. Everything was the same as it was prior to the California turmoil. The only real explanation I ever got was that my Uncle Mike was running from some really bad people who were liable to lash out at his family and then another story was the FBI was after my uncle. Depending on who told the story, the reasonings were different. When I asked our neighbor, JoAnn what she was told it was a mixture of both stories. Again, yet another version of the same event.
I felt as if my life was “choose your own ending” phenomenon. The only thaing that was for sure was that everything was being covered up. Maybe I was too young to understand. Maybe it was too outlandish for anyone to believe. Maybe it was just a cover for something completely different. I was 8 years old but I was far from naive to the ways of the Maddox family. Deceit, pathological lies, exaggerations & cruelty was par for the course. I became convinced that I would only find out what happened when the dust settled or until I was grown–whichever came first. I asked my dad because he would be straight with me. It became clear that he was just as much out of the loop as I was. After all, we weren’t apart of the Maddox inner circle.
Roughly 30 years later, I finally was given some of the answers. It had all been about me.
The rest of my California adventure seems to be a blur with highlighted oddities. Early in the morning, Mother woke me up. It was time to go. We left with Bobby Riggs and Uncle Mike in Mike’s car. He drove us to a beautiful marina. Huntington Beach they told me. We went into a townhouse that was immaculate. It was on the marina with the water right out the back sliding glass door. The house was furnished with posh furniture, like I’d seen only on TV. I was told again here to stay away from the windows. The blinds were pulled shut on all the downstairs windows. Upstairs the blinds were tilted so that we could see out but no one could see in. I had a beautiful bedroom which I told would be all mine for the time being. Mother had another room. There were more people besides Bobby Riggs now. A man, whose name I cannot recall owned the property. His sister, Jody, I had met before when my uncle swooped into town. She was his mistress.
She was a shell of a woman. She always seemed happy and talked to me quite a bit. She told me about a son she had that her ex-husband had taken away from her. The sadness in her eyes was all consuming, but she said she felt better just being around me. Besides this was her brother’s house, what could happen to us here? I was informed that Jody’s brother was also a bodyguard in the employ of my uncle. He was there to protect us. We couldn’t go outside or even near the windows. I spent the majority of my days here sleeping and watching TV. I don’t know how long we were here, but one afternoon while everyone was gathered around in the living room laughing and talking, I went to sit down next Bobby Riggs. All of a sudden my mother yelled, “NO” and she grabbed me. I almost sat down on a gun…not just any gun but an uzi. Scared to death, I went upstairs to the bathroom to wash my face and kind of calm myself down.
The bathroom was elegant and had a full size mirrored closet. I opened the closet to find a hand towel or washcloth. To my surprise, this closet held an arsenal of guns that looked as if they were on display. What the hell was I in the middle of??