Thursday, April 5, 2012

Social Security Mayhem

It was a restful night in excruciating pain, such severe pain you just want to take heavy duty sedatives as strong as an anesthetic and ... go into such a deep sleep to get away from it. I don't know which is the worst; the bone tumors on every joint, the pains in my chest, violent migraine. My entire body is being tortured. Trying to grasp for breath has left my throat sandpaper sore. The pain is so severe I keep going dizzy.
I just didn't come out of this past homeless winter alright. I came out physically and emotionally devastated.

All night I kept thinking about the response when I told one Christian that people are dying because they are homeless. Her reaction was, "Why because they don't have a white picket fence?" I fear that I may become a statistic of this level of greed and apathy. I feel so old, so ill, and so thoroughly spent.

By noon I decided to drive to Roswell and re-apply for a new social security card, to replace the original which lost it's life in the washing machine.

The drive from Ruidoso to Roswell has to be one of the most miserable none-scenic tours. Once out of the mountains the barren desert, flat land and high winds is almost depressing. The fact that I was so ill didn't make me appreciate it anymore.

At the federal building in Roswell humor seemed in short supply. You could have done a great Monty Python skit with this material. I was told to take a number, which I did by electronic means. The guard ~ not civil servant but guard ~ then told me to take a seat and wait for my turn.
I looked around the room. I was the "only" one there.

A few second later the woman civil servant called my number. I was then put through the 5th degree for a replacement social security card. " I heard under penalty" so many times I half way expected her to drag a bible out and make me swear on it. I never thought that replacing a damaged social security card could be such a fiasco.

By the time I got back to the shed I was so ill I just curled up and went to sleep. Please God, let this land close tomorrow.

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 am begging anyone in this family for help.

I don't believe I have EVER witnessed any none vio
lent 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.

Liam Griffin, I sat in your law office with two witnesses as you gave me your promise, your guarantee, that our money would be returned before harm came to us.

Patricia Ogilvie-Huckins you were present the day I signed contract with your son. You walked out of the kitchen with Sylve 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, and you knew what your son had done to them and others.

Dr. Kenneth Ogilvie, I contacted you and simply a
sked 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, $45,000 from Francis McKinney. The list just goes on and on and on.
Because of Robert Huckins I ended up paying
$140,000 to be homeless.. sat in the cold, emotionally, physically and financially broke. In the middle of a recession, with no way to recover the stolen funds.

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, pl
ease convince Robert Huckins to stop this torture and return the building fund he stole from us so we too, can have a home.

Relevant pages:

hite-nothing-but-white.htmlIt is not only for what we do that we are held responsible, but also for what we do not do. ~ Moliere