Monday, September 19, 2011

Sound Of Silence

After I checked on my youngest daughter I started early this morning marketing a TB stakes mare. It's one of those days when you are unsure if it's going to be sunny, or pour with rain. The rain clouds kept moving around, the sun kept re-appearing, and the anticipation of rain brought a real disappointment for we didn't get any rain.

The sound of silence, the absence of motorbikes, is like a breathe of fresh mountain air. You don't realize how peaceful the Sacramento's are until someone invades that peace. It returns like blessings from heaven, especially after a biker rally.I wasn't scheduled to haul the race colt today, and the sudden re-schedule to pick him up tomorrow wasn't a feasible plan. Tomorrow I have to haul hay from Capitan and be at Becky Washburns in the afternoon. I was hoping to get the truck overhauled today, but I seem to have forgotten to make the appointment.

My youngest daughter was notified that she has to spend up to 6 weeks in the hospital while the doctors try to get the MRSA under control. Through sobs and tears she told me the news - but I thank God that a hospital has finally decided to do some radical treatment. This is just heartbreaking. I know that my outdoors loving daughter will be mortified sitting in a hospital for weeks, but I am thanking the Lord that her chances of recovery have just increased considerably.
The doctors were still doing MRI's on her after 9 pm tonight.

Yesterday I spoke with a friend of another victim of fraud. Another elderly lady who had her life savings stolen. I didn't have the time to hear all of the details, but it's like all cases where elderly women have been victimized ~ it simply rips your heart out. Then it makes you ask, "What can you do to bring justice back to the court rooms? How can this abuse be stopped?" My eyes are sore with crying today and soon my tears were accompanied by a violent migraine. Like all human beings when life becomes stressful I just want to cook a warm dinner and relax, with my family.. in my own home.

Again I appeal to the Huckins family members I am aware of, Malcolm Huckins, Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins. ( Diana Huckins? Dominic Huckins? Malcolm Huckins? ) What happened to Dorothy McKeever was inexcusable, and not one person would speak up for her. What happened to myself and my family no different. Your brother, cousin, son, Robert Huckins, stole our building fund knowing that once it was hidden we wouldn't even have the funds to rent a home.

He walked out of the Wells Fargo Bank on Sudderth Drive with $110,000 DAYS before the White Collar Crime investigators, for the State of New Mexico, demanded that he repay ALL of our building fund back within a 30 day period. The money disappeared into thin air, even though days later he was recorded in a deposition admitting that he had the money, adding that he didn't need 30 days to repay the money back, he could pay it back in less time.

Officer John Barnes of the state police was present during that deposition. Someone knows where our building fund is. And the people who know where it is are perfectly aware of the damage they are doing. There was much, much money collected from numerous victims than the amount of money recorded in this particular withdrawal from the Wells Fargo bank. And it wasn't spent on contracted jobs, because almost all employees and subcontractors were given hot checks. A number so large in dollar amount and numbers that it was impossible to account for them all.

Today Robert Huckins has his own home...
He also has OUR home.....
He also has a lot of people's money...
And his freedom.

I can't physically go on being homeless and I want to see my mother. The 12th District Courts described this damage as "grievous." I would call it far more. Abuse above and beyond what any woman should be subjected to, let alone a victim of crime.
I implore you to intervene and make your brother, cousin, son, return ALL of the building fund that he stole so that we can have what you all have...
a home. I am begging for anyone to help me retrieve our home. We have paid for a home many, many times over both in finances and pain & suffering due to this continued this cruelty. I will keep asking every single day until the day I die, because I am so desperate, and I have no idea where else to turn.

Scared and sacred are spelled with the same letters. Awful proceeds from the same root word as awesome. Terrify and terrific. Every negative experience holds the seed of transformation.~Alan Cohen