I woke up early and felt alright. Until I walked into the corral to feed "No-Name" at sunrise and a migraine shot across my eyes. Within seconds I was violently ill. By dragging myself back to bed after taking medication I managed to decrease the pain to a tolerable level, but I don't understand this pain and stress that appears out of nowhere.With so much scheduled today I decided to go to Nogal before 10 am - just in case I became so incapacitated I wouldn't be able to do anything later on.
I can't even remember speaking with Jan. I was so ill I can remember repeating several things over and over, commenting about how fast the summer has gone and how scared I am of not being able to get into a home, until I realized that the only thing I could do was return to the shed while I was able to point the truck in a specific direct.
By the time I got back to Alto I could barely see, become nauseous and chest pains had started. I went to bed and didn't wake up until after 5 pm.On the way back from Nogal I passed my land, and the barn and single wide, and tears ran down my face until I fell asleep. Life shouldn't be this much fun. It really shouldn't.
By 7.30 pm the thunder started and the rain clouds came over the Sierra Blanca, and it started pouring. We are under a flash flood warning until midnight. We need rain but I am so tired of shoveling mud and sleeping on muddy sheet and blankets. This has been a really bad day and all I want is my home... my life.. my family and my career.
There has to be someone related to Robert & Sylve Huckins must have some means to reach them, if it be Michael Huckins, Dr.Kenneth Ogilvie ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) or Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins and get them to return ALL of the money they stole from us so that I can buy a home and get our lives back.
I don't believe I have EVER witnessed any none violent crime that can be as devastating as stealing someone's home. I am walking in Dorothy McKeevers footsteps, day by day, month by month, year by year.
Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylvi Huckins and your son introduced me to you. He told you that I was the British horse trainer he had told you about, the one he was going to build the home and barn for. Why didn't you say something? There may be a rational and reasonable explanation but I have spent over 3 years, homeless, not understanding it. I understand it even less knowing that though I was a total stranger, both Dorothy McKeever and Sally Canning you KNEW.
Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, I contacted you and simply asked for a reference, not knowing that Robert Huckins was your cousin. Robert Huckins had just stolen over $30,000 from the domestic violence shelter, HEAL, yet everyone was trying to hide it. There was a history of stealing large amounts of money. $65,000 PLUS from Nancy Canning. $89,000 PLUS from Dorothy McKeever. The list just goes on and on and on.
Today Robert Huckins has his own home...
He also has OUR home.....
He also has a lot of people's money...
And his freedom.
Women are not banks or loan institutions. Women should not be the source of a retirement fund for people who don't want to do an honest day's work for an honest day's pay. Holding women hostage while playing with the judicial system, a horrendous game of cat and mouse extending YEARS, with the victims whose very homes, families and stability are in jeopardy is cruelty, as cruel as a physical beating. It is financial and emotional RAPE. Homelessness is not justice. It is a slow, painful death.
Please, I beg with everything I have within me, please convince Robert Huckins to stop this torture and return the building fund he stole from us so we too, can have a home.
Power is no blessing in itself, except when it is used to protect the innocent. ~Jonathan Swift
This is the journey of a victim of felony fraud and embezzlement left homeless by builder, Robert M. Huckins who was given 27 years in jail,suspended,on the proviso he return $82,200, in $114 per week payments. Sometimes sad, sometimes pensive, sometimes with sarcastic humor, it chronicles the apathy within the New Mexico Judicial system and New Mexico State Government towards victims of white collar crime and the sheer audacity of the criminals who believe that the world owes them something.