This is a graphic I made while attempting to work on the much needed upgrade for Rumor Mill News and withstand the ghastly attacks and false reports about myself and my son, Arthur.
The attacks by Alexander and Laura, the purported Duke and Duchess of Manchester, had started at the end of October 2011.
They went on for about three years, resulting in the loss of the 47 websites on various topics which I was using to generate a living.
Arthur, then in his late 30s, had been in my care since he was 19 on September 27, 1997. Due to a motorcycle accident on the freeway leading to the airport in Santa Barbara, he had collided with the back of a car, which pulled out in front of him, suffering a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI).
He was not expected to live. I camped out at the hospital and demanded they begin rebuilding his face, which they were disinclined to do. In the morning I helped with the removal of the enormous scabs, which covered his legs, arms, and body. He was still unconscious, but he still cringed and roiled with the anguish of the pain.
Arthur had the best helmet money could buy, I had made sure of that. The facepiece saved his life.
But he was wearing only jeans and a Tee-shirt so the damage to his body, one arm almost severed and shattered, and the damage to his face was horrific.
The hospital, Cottage in Goleta, was unequipped for dealing with TBI. But that was a problem of which I remained unaware for some time. Eventually, I would read the book which helped me understand the problem, thanks to Mark Palmer. About Mark link below.
Mark's book made it possible for me to begin to understand the barriers to recovery faced by people suffering from TBI. Soon after this time I began following the work of Dr. Robert Hare on psychopathy and realized my husband, Craig Franklin, at that time Senior Vice President for Advanced Products Development at
Green Hills Software (GHS), was a psychopath. Eventually, I would surmise, the president of the company, Dan O'Dowd, was one as well.
Since that time, I have followed developments and studies on this subject as well. See
Life Stealers The site will be an element for the 2-Way Interactive TV we are launching in the 4th Quarter of this year, 2023. You can see some of our pre-production shows at
Women Leading TV Network
In January 1997 Craig had succumbed to his diabetes, not surprising since he refused to modify his diet or see a physician. As he went to the hospital he did mention there was a problem with his taxes. Soon, I would learn our home in Santa Barbara was approaching foreclosure, as was the home we were finally able to sell in the San Fernando Valley. Paying both mortgages had been tough on me.
At the time, I did not know Craig had never filed the returns I had my accountant compete for his in 1986, when we married. Because of the problems caused by my previous husband, Ronald Edward Kellett, who also calls himself Ronald Edward Foster, I was very cautious about ensuring these were honestly written and filed.
Ron had decided to participate in a scheme to evade paying taxes just before I decided divorce was my only option due to his spending every weekend, Friday night to early Monday Morning, at Game Parties.
We had borrowed money from my parents to build on a room addition four years before. It remained unfinished with no sign of this changing.
The scheme Ron bought into put its originator in Federal Prison for 7 years. I told him this would happen, being very familiar with the habits of the IRS from my time as an activist in the Libertarian Party. See
Libertarian History
Two years later I had married Craig Franklin and we were living in the house in North Hills, San Fernando Valley. Ron called, hysterical, and told me the IRS, two agents, had just left and he was going to jail over the clever scheme originated by Bill White. He than added he had told the agents this was all my idea and had given them my number. He then hung up.
The phone rang as soon as I set it down. I knew who it was.
Picking up the phone I uttered a quivery 'Hello?" and confronted two IRS agents, likely the same ones who had just left Ron. I said, "Oh, thank goodness you have called. I did not know how to get in touch with you.!"
I then began talking. An hour and a half later they told me they had to go. I begged them to come see me because I had much more to tell them, and I did. But evidently, they did not want me to be heard by a jury.
Ron was the only one who was spared going to court. The matter, at least for him, was dropped.
Nothing I said was untrue, though there was much I did not remember since I had nothing to do with the scheme myself.
I began paying particular attention to the IRS, however and had many enlightening conversations with former IRS agents.
At the time, I believed Craig's clear emotional problems were due to PTSD. As you might have read above, the IRS goes after people who, for emotional reasons, do not file their taxes. This is actually a recognized disability and so covered by the Americans With Disabilities Act.
This epiphany caused me to adopt the approach to Craig's IRS problem, resulting in my obtaining $250,000 in refunds. Craig had said to me, in front of witnesses, when I told him, confidently, I would be able to get all the money taken by the IRS back, "Well, if you can do that, you should have the money for yourself. It was my fault."
By September 1997 I had paid off all of our monumental debts, caused by Craig's non-filing entirely. Arthur had come out of his coma, was healing, and would soon be in a recovery center near our home. This is how I spent the money from the tax refunds. But I didn't mention this to Craig as I was saving this as a surprise for him.
Unfortunately, my world was about to fall in from a very unexpected direction.
Craig had, as he always had, received stock options from Green Hills, more, in fact, than anyone else, though he did not think it was enough. Craig and Dan O'Dowd very often went out to lunch together. Dan had a plan and wanted Craig's cooperation for forcing a buy-out of GHS from Glenn Hightower, who had originally funded the project.
The glitch in this plan was that GHS was then valued at $350M and a buy-out, under his agreement with Glenn, allowed the partner who wanted the buy-out to name the price for the company.
Glenn owned three successful companies. Learn a little about Glenn
HERE
Glenn would not have a problem up with half the value of GHS. So what was Dan to do? Dan turned to Craig with an idea. They called it the "Throw Mama From The Train" plan".
Yep. Craig persuaded the critical employees to cooperate with a walk-out when Glenn carried out his Due Diligence at GHS corporate office. Having the money does not matter when you do not have the critical personnel.
Glenn knew something had happened - but he failed to call me. By then, I knew because my psychopathic eldest child, Morgan Pillsbury, had discovered Craig was very willing to destroy her after she helped Craig in every possible way, including to cooperate in ensuring her brother did not live to cost him money. I later learned Craig had discovered from his attorney, Jacqueline Misho, I would automatically be entitled to support for Arthur, a disabled adult since he had turned 20, even after Misho had removed the papers showing Craig had adopted him.
Arthur had come home from his physical rehabilitation and was struggling with depression.
Craig had mostly moved out while we were in Hawaii, a vacation Craig insisted on, it turned out. to get me out of the house so his attorney, Jacqueline Misho, could go through all of my files and steal what was necessary to ensure I got as little as possible.
Many insights would come from various places and people who were very familiar with what was happening with the divorce. Unfortunately, most of these came too late to be useful.
I decided she had been so active in shocking and nefarious activities she needed a site of her own, some years later.
MorganPillsburyGell
But the most heinous thing she did was to cooperate with Craig in an attempt to bring about the death of Arthur, her younger brother.
Craig called me up one day, after the divorce was launched and told me he wanted to continue his relationship with Arthur, who was sad and discouraged, but working hard at his further struggles with his Traumatic Brain Injury. His friends had little time for him and he was shocked to realize how much he had lost in memory.
Craig told me he regretted not seeing Arthur and hoped he could continue his relationship with him. I started crying. Seeing that Craig did care for him would have made a huge difference. Craig asked if Arthur could have lunch with him. When I asked Arthur, his face lit up like someone had turned on beam of light.
I drove Arthur to the restaurant. He was to call when their meeting was finished.
Less than an hour later, Arthur slammed the front door, limped into his room, and refused to talk to me. I was frantic and called Craig immediately. But Craig said nothing unusual had happened. I would not learn what had been said for years.
Arthur refused to come out of his room; he would not even call his friends. Discussing this with his therapist it was agreed he needed some help and this someplace where he would not be able to attempt to take his own life. He was to start the next Monday but asked if he could spend a day with Ron, his former father.
Craig had adopted all of the children when we married, at his insistence. Ron had cheerfully ceded his rights as a parent.
When I called Ron to arrange this he promised Arthur would be supervised at all times and there would be no guns in the house.
On Sunday Ron called and bluntly told me Arthur had shot himself through the brain and was in the hospital near his home in Reseda. I went there immediately. Northridge Hospital was right across the street from where Arthur had gone to school.
Numb, I signed the papers consenting to the surgery. No one had much hope he could survive a shot through is brain through his palate. I was entirely alone and checked into a hotel nearby. There was no sign of Ron anywhere.
Soon after this, as I was sitting waiting which A there Morgan came in. She told me she had been to a cardiologist who had told her she was having heart problems and needed a heart transplant.
I drove back and forth, staying at the hospital as much as possible. Arthur was not conscious, but I sat by his bed, held his hand, and talked to him. For two days my other daughters, Ayn and Dawn came and stayed with me. But they had to get back to work.
Then, they assigned a social worker to Arthur. His brain had flatlined for two weeks and I was urged to allow his organs to be used for those in need of transplants. I agreed to think about it.
The night before this was to take place I returned to my hotel room and began sobbing. asking, demanding my son not die. I said, to no one, because no one was there, To let him live. Over and over I said, "Anything, anything, I'll do anything.
Suddenly, there was a face so close to mine that it almost seemed we could touch. It was a woman, and I felt as if I knew her somehow.
Then she spoke. "It was be hard, harder than you can imagine. Is this what you really want? Yes, I nodded, tears streaming from my eyes. "I love him." Images of him as a baby in my arms, and a funny, adventurous small boy, and as he had so recently been, an angry young man still filled with kindness for others, all of these came to me. "I will do anything."
As I sat by Arthur's bed the next morning, the sounds of the hospital dim through the closed door, Arthur turned his head and looked at me. Stunned, I touched his face and cried and laughed and smiled at him. Arthur had returned.
But the woman's face had not lied. It was going to be harder than I imagined possible.
This is a part of the story but the next years were filled with uncounted moments of happiness because Arthur lived.
There is a lot more to this story and that will be in the book. Out soon.
