A Brief History

6 September 2022

Emmy

When I was a child my mother used to take me to visit someone named Emmy; she lived across the road from my Mama Dolin’s house in Ottawa, Boone County, West Virginia. I don’t remember much about Emmy other than she used to give me stamps and stickers. I have very little memory of that experience other than getting really excited to go see her. The reason I believe this is relevant is because I can’t remember Emmy’s face and my mother has never talked about her since I was just a very young child. I have a feeling that Emmy was a false persona of my Mama Dolin. I believe I was taken to Emmy’s so that she could molest me, and the memory of her is vague because they intoxicated me with drugs or alcohol. The reason I believe this will become evident as I demonstrate the patterns of abusive sexual behavior that my family has propagated through out it’s history.

Big Ray

My mother used to also take my sister to visit an old man who lived across the road from my Mama’s house; we knew him as Big Ray. My mother would take her over, sit her on his lap, and leave her for hours alone with him. She would always come back with loads of candy and money which he gave her while she was over there. I have come to believe that my mother did this for the purpose of allowing him to sexual molest my sister.

The Superman

When I was a small child I was infatuated with Superman. Over at my Mama Dolin’s house in Ottawa, Boone County, West Virginia, I had a Superman outfit; which I don’t ever remember actually wearing. The reason I know that the outfit existed is because I saw myself in pictures as a child in the outfit; however, along with these photographs where also photographs of me naked and fully exposed in the same poses. I remember them letting me run around the house naked during that time of my life; however, as for the Superman costume; I don’t ever remember running around the house in it, and I never remember seeing it around, or seeing it stored anywhere. It does exist somewhere.

The Burned Sister

One time my mother, Teresa Mitchell was fighting with John Ray Dolin; I remember looking down the hallway and hearing them shouting at one another. I don’t know exactly what happened but it seemed to be some kind of argument, I don’t know what it was about; however, during this somehow my sister was burned with a very hot liquid. My mother later claimed that John Ray Dolin had spilled coffee on my sister and left a third degree burn. I was left with the impression that she had instigated the fight and that it was being kept from me and was played out in front of my sister.

The Tomato Juice

My Mama used to take me down stairs alone beneath the porch to give me her home made canned tomato juice. I think it was spiked with alcohol, she would put a lot of salt in it to mask the odor and taste. I don’t know what she did to me while we where down there; I don’t ever remember coming out of there, I never remember finishing the juice. I only remember the first few sips.

The Hatfield’s

We lived in a trailer park named Hatfield’s Trailer Park; while we where there I cut my finger pretty deeply, I had never bleed like that before. I took it to my mother and I never got stitches, it scabbed over for weeks and eventually left a scar. Even as a small child I kept thinking that something more should be done about this; not just a band-aid, a piece of skin could be lifted up and you could look under it.

The Burn Barrel

I went to an elementary school named Ramage; in the back of the field was a large steel barrel where they burned the garbage. The school held a field day and there was a race. While I was there alone I inspected the barrel, and when I did there was broken glass all around, and I cut my foot. I told someone about it, but nothing happened, we went back to class and I finished the day with my foot cut open. I remember looking down at it over and over as my shoe was turning red, I thought I was going to be in trouble when I got home. When I got home I took off my shoes and took a bath, the shoes disappeared and the wound was left undressed to heal on it’s own. It left a permanent scare on my right foot.

The Thin Ice

We lived at a place called Gillespie’s Trailer Park. Our trailer was the last one on the side next to the river. One winter day the river had partially frozen. I’m not sure how I got it into my head to go down to the river, I had never done that before, nor did I ever do it again after that day; however, that day I walked out onto the frozen ice surface of the river. I remember the center of the river was not frozen, I walked out until I could hear the cracking under my feet. I went inside to tell my mother and she made no effort to stop me from going right back out onto the river to try it again. I thought it was strange that I wasn’t in trouble. It was my own sense of self preservation and the fear of what would happen if the ice broke that stopped me from doing it again.

Jumping Jehovah

When we lived at the Gillespie’s Trailer Park there was a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses that had a Kingdom Hall up the hill from us. We where approached by them and started attending the services there. I was really into it; there where other kids and the place was clean, and everyone wore nice cloths and smelled good. I also really enjoyed reading the stories from the books they sold. One time I even went up in front of the congregation to read a couple verses. I wasn’t very good but I sure was proud of myself; I wanted to become a preacher right away. After a few days we went to the Kingdom Hall and met with two different couples; one was from California, they where younger perhaps in their mid 20s, the other couple was older in their 60s. The meeting with the young couple was very brief and didn’t seem to go well I think they didn’t get along with my mother. The older couple met with us a few times, they talked to me, and showed me toys that I hadn’t seen before. These toys where constructive, creative, and made me use my mind to solve puzzles instead of the toys I was used to, which where basically good guys vs bad guys. The couple was really nice, I can almost see they’re faces still, Herb and Olive where their names. Once Herb and Olive moved on my mother bought two gold fish and named them Herb and Olive. Well gold fish Herb and Olive jumped out of the tank and died on the floor; after that the only Herb and Olive my mother talked about where the two gold fish. As I look back, now that I am an adult, I get the impression that she was offering me up for adoption to these two couples. This was around the same time she let me walk on the partially frozen river.

The Acid Burn

While we lived at the Gillespie’s Trailer Park we did a science fair project for my school. Mom had somehow gotten a vial of hydrocoloric acid. We put it on rocks to test which ones where igneous and non-igneous; which, I don’t understand to this day, since I have never been very interested in geology. We went out to my Grandpa’s farm and while there I was out climbing trees. When I got back inside, I had scraped my arm at the elbow; mom told me it was poison sumac and that we needed to put some medicine on it. Her and Heather Mitchell put a clear watery substance on my arm and called it “Calamine Lotion”, it burned terribly. I remember thinking that calamine lotion was a soothing chalk like liquid and thinking this is some strange calamine lotion. She put the acid on me several times, until she was content that she had seen the bone.

The Vinton Falls

We went out to a place in Vinton Ohio, near the place where my Grandpa owned a farm. The area was called Vinton Falls, although it’s not a water fall at all, it’s a weir. Anyone familiar with damn construction can tell you that a weir is an extremely dangerous place to swim. There is a torodial current just under the over flow where anything that goes over the weir can get caught and held under water in the torodial current. My mother; Teresa Mitchell, John Ray Dolin, and Paul David Mitchell took me swimming there. While there they gave me alcohol, and then crossed the river to the other side. At the time I was not a good swimmer, this was maybe the second or third time I had ever been in the water. Having been left behind I wanted to join them on the other side; I jumped in and started swimming across and I heard someone shouting “Come on!” I couldn’t make it and about half way across I drowned, I kept hearing “Come on, come on.”; then John Ray Dolin jumped into the water and pulled me out; saving my life. I heard someone say “You should have left him, come on.”, John Ray was crying and he shouted “This is my son, this is my son!”, and when I opened my eyes he changed from deep sorrow to great joy. I never saw him happy like that ever again. It was the only time I ever saw him happy. He went on to join them, they left me there on a picnic blanket.

The Fire Bug

When I was a kid we always had access to ammunition and guns. My Grandpa would allow these people from out in Wilkesville to come hunt on his property. In the evenings they would get drunk and high and have a huge bon fire. They called me “the fire bug”; because, I was sitting and playing in the fire. While I was playing there were these really loud pops going off inside the fire, the hunters told me it was just the wood popping. When my Uncle Kenneth came outside he came over and grabbed me and pulled me away from the fire and told me they had thrown 22 caliber shells into that side of the fire and it was dangerous and that I should get away from it.

The Shot Gun

One evening at the house in Langsville they brought some boy out to play with me, they gave us BB guns and let us shoot up an old truck. A few days later I asked if he could come back out to the farm to play again, they told me he had shot himself in a suicide. This affected me somewhat and I started thinking about doing it myself. At one point I went into the bedroom and loaded a shot gun cocked it, and put it in my mouth. I kept my finger clear of the trigger; I just wanted to know what he had done to himself, what it must have felt like. Just one flip of my finger and I would have been dead. My family was just in the other room, through an open door. The shotgun and ammunition was in a rack on the wall just behind the couch, I can’t believe that someone didn’t know what I was messing with. For the next few days I was left with the impression that everyone knew what I had done.

The Boy Scout Knot

I was up stairs with my cousin David Lee and we where looking through some old drawers, and we ran across some of my uncles old boy scout stuff. He mentioned the badges you get and that one of them in particular was for tying knots. He then proceeded to show me how to tie the noose. To this day, I still don’t know how to tie a good knot, but I sure can tie the noose; we practiced it all evening that day. Just a couple 12 year olds practicing noose tying in the upstairs bedroom; total just like in the boy scouts.

The Homework Helper

I came into the kitchen one time and my mother jumped, she was sitting extremely close to my brother and quickly let me know what I was seeing. She told me that my brother was slow reading and that he needed her help. I felt a bit uncomfortable as it seemed as if she might have been touching him in an inappropriate way. He never mentioned anything to me as we grew up; however, my brother and I have always had an arms length relationship. We where never close enough to share secrets with one another. I don’t think my mother ever want us to have a close relationship. In fact I feel as though we where played off each other; rather than being taught to stick together and take care of each other.

Burnt Whiskers

There was a time when my cousin David Lee Mitchell and I went up into the field to start a fire and roast marshmallows. I put the kindling in, and stuffed some grass and paper under it, and then when I went to get a match and wasn’t looking, David Lee put gasoline onto the kindling. When I came back I bent down over the kindling to get it lit and when I struck the match and a huge fireball burst out into my face and burned off my hair, eye lashes and eyebrows. I went and told everyone what had happened and he was never punished for it; they just made fun and laughed about how stupid and funny I looked. Heather Mitchell was there that day, she was in cosmetology classes. She wanted to become a hair dresser.

The Beastmaster

There was a film we saw in the early 90s called The Beastmaster. In the film the main guy had two ferrets and at one point he sent them in to attack this guy and they ate his eyes out. We talked a bit about the ferocity of these little animals and somehow my parents where able to go out and buy 6 of them. They put them in a cage outside across the creek, and occasionally allowed us to play with them. I was bit once by them and after that wanted nothing to do with them; besides they where filthy, more so than most animals, and very smelly. My parents stopped feeding them and they tore each other apart inside their cage. I remember them rotting away during the winter, and next spring was just emaciated hide beneath lumps of fur.

The Hypodermic Needles

My mother was studying to become a laboratory technician when I was just a teenager, so through out my high school years there where hypodermic needles in the kitchen drawer, right next to the straws and forks. Seemed pretty normal to me, even after I learn what heroin was. It never really occurred to me that no one else had hypodermic needles in the kitchen. I also had a pair of forceps as a teenager, and I never actually knew where I had gotten them; the kind you use to smoke marijuana roaches.

The Sleeping Pills

When I was a teenager I was going though a lot of mental anguish and mentioned that I had trouble sleeping because my mind wouldn’t shut off. The truth of the matter is that people aren’t supposed to sleep 10 hours a day, my parent’s where putting me to bed at 9 pm to wake up at 7 am; which is around 3 hours more than anyone needs to sleep each day. It’s no mystery now why I was laying in bed for hours not able to sleep. Her solution; however, was to give me sleeping pills. This is not a good idea for a teenage boy who is dealing with emotional distress of moving after a divorce and relocating to new school and transitioning into high school with all new friends. One day I had a huge argument with my mother and my step-father; he had blamed me for not checking the oil in my car and told me I had let the engine blow up; I eventually found out someone had loosened the bolts on the fuel pump. I fixed it with a ratchet in less than 5 minutes. However; the argument blew up into a full scale redneck meltdown. We called my Grandparents, and I was off to Langsville to live. Just before my Grandparents arrived to pick me up I went into my bedroom where I had the sleeping pills and took all of them. On the ride to Langsville I was extremely tired, I think they carried me in; however, I lived though it. Mom never mentioned that the entire bottle of sleeping pills she just gave me days before, and that had sat right on top of my dresser, went from full to empty that day. Nor, did anyone ever concern themselves with who loosened the bolts on my fuel pump while I was at my McDonald’s job that day. I also never received an apology for being falsely accused of damaging the car. Now as an adult I realize this was all a setup to get me out of the house and move me out into the country side of Ohio.

The Turkey Hunt

My uncle Paul David Mitchell asked me to go hunting with him once. We grabbed a couple guns and headed off to Browns Hollow; just behind Wilbur Ward Sr. house. I remember being very happy because I had never had spent any time with my Uncle David. We walked over to Browns Hollow and he told me where to stand that he was going on ahead and then we would go up the hill; once he got some distance between us he tuned toward me and pointed his gun right at me. I was perplexed, I thought he was making a mistake until I saw that he was looking straight into my eyes. I can’t remember what happened after that, I can’t say for sure that he lowered the gun or fired and missed. I don’t remember walking off the hill that day.

The Crash

One typical day in Langsville a friend of mine by the name of Dean Hankle invited me to go to a party in Middleport, I accepted and I went and picked him up. They must have drugged me that day, I don’t remember a party. I don’t know what happened during that trip, but as we where driving west I remember feeling the car go off the road and seeing the trees directly in front of me. Then I remember getting out of the crash with blood all over me walking around in a daze. I said I needed help, and someone told me I was refusing medical treatment, I looked up at the sky and it was pink and the tree line was purple. It was at the end of Hysell Run Road, which is where Fred Pretty’s garage is located, it’s also the road that leads to the back entrance of my Grandpa’s farm. Fred Pretty is related to Arnold Pretty, who is Kathy Harris’s boyfriend, she is the mother of Paul David Mitchell’s son, David Lee Mitchell. They cleaned up the wreck and took the car to the farm, I only saw the car once after the accident, and I only remember being in the house in Langsville once more after that. They drugged me and ran me off the road trying to kill me. The car is now parked behind Paul David Mitchell’s house on Jacks Road, Langsville, beneath the trees; it’s visible on Google Earth.

Really, Both Wrists Broken

I was working at McDonald’s after I lived in Langsville with my Grandpa; just before my decision to join the Air Force. I came home and my Grandma had came into town to care of my sister. The story they told me was that she was on the swing at the grade school and had jumped out and fallen, breaking both wrists. The odd part of the story was how quickly my mother threw it out, practically as soon as I walked through the door, and I found it strange that everyone else just nodded and agreed with the story instead of anyone having their own voice on the matter. My suspicion was that she had crashed a car and they didn’t want to tell me about it.

The Freemason’s Funeral

When I was attending The Community College of the Air Force to receive my certification for Aircraft Electrical and Environmental Systems my Grandfather passed away. I applied for a waiver and was given leave so that I could go home and attend his funeral. They kept me drugged from the moment I arrived. I was supposed to be a paw barer, all I remember was slipping all over the place in the red clay on the hill, and being pulled back by my mother. I had my hands full with the Air Force and didn’t think to check on my Grandfather’s Last Will and T estimate; I was also only 19 years old at the time. This is something my mother should have been responsible enough to have informed me of; I needed to stay for the reading of his will. Not this family, they drugged me and kept me on ice for another 17 years. The only thing I have of my Grandfather’s is a picture of his baptism and his Freemason Bible.

The Eastern Star

When my Grandmother passed away I was drugged and escorted out of the wake. They took me to the house in Langsville where we met up with my Uncle Kenneth Mitchell, I think they drugged him too. He was sitting in my old bedroom, in my old closet, holding my Grandpa’s old 8 mm video camera. I remember Heather Mitchell saying “He thinks he’s making a video for Garth Brooks.” My Grandpa’s Bible was in my closet, and his old videos, I picked those up and had them in my hands, I saw the will. My Grandpa’s will was laying in my bedroom, in my closet that day, as soon as I saw it and my eyes locked onto it, the family started rushing around distracting me and rushed me out of the room. I never had the opportunity to spend any time in my own bedroom, in my own closet of the house in Langsville. The one I stayed in while I lived with my Grandpa the last year of his life. I know in my heart that my Grandpa put that stuff in that closet for me, that was my bedroom. On those 8 mm reels where films of my mother as a little girl riding a pony he brought out to the farm, and films he took at the Worlds Fair; his Bible was in there, the Globe he used to show me how big the world was! His Last Will and T estimate was in that closet, for me! They drugged me and kidnapped me. I woke up in the car; Travis Dolin was driving, Alex Mitchell was in the passengers seat, and Ben Mitchell was in the back with me. I asked what was going on, and they made like we where at a party. I woke up days later naked in bed with Alex Mitchell, my cousin. They basically handled me for weeks after that, drugging me over and over, and keeping me drunk. My sister, Karen Carter told me there was something wrong with Grandpa’s will, and that’s why there was a second will created. They took me to the reading, I remember walking around outside the courthouse wondering where my family had gone. They took me to a Blue Grass Festival and told me it was hosted by the lawyer that took care of the will for my mother; I was drugged during the festival, I only remember being the for around 15 minutes. I was also a full time college student at the time, so I was pretty occupied with school; that’s how they where able to let me down. I saw my Grandfather’s will in my bedroom in Langsville the day of his funeral; I know he put it there for me to find!

Under The Table and Dreaming

While living at the apartments and attending college in Nitro, where Russel Casto was Mayor in Kanawha County where Russel Casto was Magistrate. A girl moved in downstairs named Brittney Mathews. A nice looking girl, she invited me down to her place the first time we met. It was a pretty fast time with Brittney, she claimed to be a narcoleptic and needed a pill called adderall to keep herself awake. I had never heard of it, but once I realized what it was; well, I noticed Brittney had a lot of adderall. Her prescriptions where in the counts that no human could survive. I came to know how college kids would use it to cram for tests; and of course being in college, I started accepting the pills from her for their cognitive enhancing properties. She would give them to me, and eventually I started asking for them more often, and eventually she showed me how to snort them.

One time we went to an appointment at her doctor; I had asked to talk to him to see if there was anything I needed to be aware of in order to ease her suffering and create a working relationship and safe environment so that she could regain visitation with her children; I sat in the waiting room for a very long time, and then Russel Casto came out of the doctors office and walked through the waiting room. I waited another seven minutes and then Brittney came out and said the appointment was over and there wasn’t any time for me to speak to her doctor.

Brittney had two children from two different fathers; she had a little girl from a man named Mark, and a boy from a guy whose name escapes me. One time we went to pick up Jacob from his dad’s house; his dad was on house arrest for whatever reason. When we went to pick him up; I had to wait in the car for a pretty long time. While I was in the car two men came out onto the porch of the house; one was her kids dad, a body builder, and the other guy was Russel Casto.

One night while I was drinking she had an episode; I don’t know the clinical speak on it; but, basically a paranoia episode. It was escalating and I wasn’t equipped to bring the situation under control so I left the apartment and went up stairs to the apartment for which I held a lease. The police came, and after a brief conversation decided that nobody was in danger and moved on to other matters. The next day Brittney went to the Kanawha County Courthouse, where Russel Casto was Magistrate, and submitted a request for a no contact order; which was approved. In the coming week she called me and we resumed our relationship. The next few weeks I kept asking her to go to the courthouse and reascend the restraining order; but, she refused stating that her “uncle” would no longer help her with legal matters if she did so; the “uncle” she was referring to was Russel Casto. A couple weeks later she had another paranoia episode; again, while I was drinking and ill equipped to deescalate the situation I went back to the apartment for which I held a lease. The apartment in Nitro, where Russel Casto, her “uncle”, was Mayor. The police came; I told them the truth, that we had resumed our relationship, the police observed that I was in violation of the court issued no contact order and placed me under arrest. During the arrest the officers observed and commented that I was not unreasonable or behaving violently; however, the court order was in place. They spoke to Brittney for around half an hour while I waited in the squad car; after their conversation with her I was informed that she did in fact intend to enforce the no contact order. I was taken to jail for the minimum, which I think was one week. After I was released from jail, I returned to my apartment for which I held a lease. Time passed; living in the same building in the same apartment complex, passing one another her and there; again, we resumed the relationship. Time passed; another paranoia episode; still unequipped to deescalate; police called; however, this time the no contact order had expired. She was afforded the opportunity to go down to the courthouse and file a request for second no contact order, while I was in police custody. The court retroactively enforced this second no contact order. I was placed in jail and spent the next fourty days in South Central Regional Jail. During that fourty days I missed midterms and basically lost an entire semester of college for which I had already bought books and paid tuition. On the last day, I was beaten pretty badly by another inmate, he was nearly 300 lbs; during the beating I had to keep my head off the cinder block wall or it would have killed me. Before the term in jail, I had secured a contract with the Dell computer corporation as the service technician for the entire southern region of West Virginia; all the way out to The Greenbrier. I would have been the guy Jim Justice called to fix his computer; the Governor of West Virginia. I am not the sort of person to beg; when I tried to get that job back; that was as close I’ve ever came to begging for something. I received an eviction notice from the apartment for which I held a lease; in Nitro; where Russel Casto was Mayor. I contacted the courthouse to hold a hearing to allow me to pay the past due rent. Days later I received a letter stating that the hearing had taken place and the decision was to uphold the eviction. I was not given the opportunity to present my case. I was evicted from the apartment for which I held a lease in Nitro; where Russel Casto held the position of Mayor.

I moved in with my mother and eventually rented a trailer across the road from where she was living. I aligned my time frames with the semester of college that I had missed; and moved back to Nitro to finish college. There is a point to be made about this apartment complex; it is mainly occupied by college students from West Virginia State University; it is down the street from an Irish Pub and the bar where the police go to drink; it is up the street from these all night check cashing casinos; on the weekends everything basically from the Pub to the Casinos was fair party ally; everyone knew the police would get you if you went to far up or to far down; since that’s where the respectable folks lived; people with families and church goers; the apartment complex was basically in the middle of the college and police party area. There where police cadets in our complex; cops party and drink too; everyone knew that; more or less everyone knew informally to keep it in the zone.

While I was living there the second time; after being evicted by Russel Casto. I met a girl that lived in the apartment next to mine; I think her name was Christina. We saw each other and hung out a few times; I liked her personality, she was a bit gruff, wasn’t the sort to take crap from someone; I liked that. She was pretty too, beautiful hair. One night we where drinking and she threw a tiny bottle off the balcony; I didn’t say anything to her cause I liked her and didn’t want to be stick in the mud. The next morning I went down and picked it up and the lady downstairs saw me cleaning it up and reported me to the apartment complex manager; the same one who had evicted me before with the assistance of Russel Casto, who was the Mayor of Nitro. Well, I received an eviction notice. I contacted the courthouse and reminded them that I was supposed to be in attendance at the hearing and that they did not inform me of the date and time of the hearing. The courthouse responded by arranging a new hearing and sent me the date and time. I arrived at that date and time, I sat outside the hearing room for more than half an hour beyond the scheduled time; then I was brought into the room where Russel Casto, informed me that his decision was to uphold the eviction; I was not given the opportunity to present my case. I was evicted from the apartment for which I held a lease in Nitro; where Russel Casto held the position of Mayor. I was never in either eviction allowed to present the case that I am a student and West Virginia University and working toward a Bachelor Degree of Computer Information Systems Management. Russel Casto upheld the eviction request in which it was reported that I was outside at 9 am cleaning up the apartment complex grounds. I found out years later that the girl who threw the bottle off the balcony is an employee at the Kanawha County Courthouse. I know this because she was sitting right next to him when I was falsely arrested for assault; and she was the one who leaned over during bond hearing; after I spent three days in jail, and changed the assault charge to malicious assault on a child in a school; under the direction of Russel Casto.

What the Hell Dude

One night Darrel Carter, Karen Carter, Andrea Dolin, and Travis Dolin where over at my mothers trailer, they brought all the nieces and nephews over. We where drinking that night, and of course they had enabled me, I was drunk. Someone mentioned that it would be a good idea to go over to my place for a slumber party. This was one of the adults idea, it was not my idea, nor that of the children; it’s just not the sort of thing that they, nor I, would have suggested. This was an attempt at entrapment on the part of my family. We ended up laying down on the couch together, it was a rather large sectional couch, one of those large three piece jigsaw sectional couches. I positioned the girls so that their heads where on the opposite end, opposite from mine. I recall how odd it seemed to be making sleeping arrangements for us in my place, it didn’t seem odd playing video games and playing on the tablets; but when it came time to sleep it felt unsettling. Once we laid down the last thought I had before falling asleep was that our feet would touch if someone was to kick during the night. For the life of me, I don’t know what kind of parent would send their kids home with their drunk uncle. I for one felt uncomfortable at that point, I don’t know if that was what they kids felt. The strange thing is that I don’t remember anything after that. I don’t remember waking up and fixing them breakfast or anything. Their parents came and got them in the middle of the night. An attempt at testing my vulnerability to entrapment, a test of my temporal continuity. I don’t have any children of my own, but if I did, this is certainly a situation I would not have placed them in. Basically their parents set this whole thing up, it’s pretty evident to me now that I have separated myself from the family completely; after removing myself from there unhealthy influence. I had to get out of there.

Good Will Shopping

There was a kid that skated at the rink the same time as me for a couple years. Around that time I had set up an online Minecraft server for the nieces and nephews, a static online server. During some downtime at the rink one day, I mentioned it to him and he logged into it on his phone and played for a little while during the break time. He just built a little house, if you know anything about Minecraft it’s something you could do in 20 minutes or so. I saw him on the server a couple times after that; we didn’t really chat much, more or less a “Hey, how ya doin’?”. In the back of my mind I thought he might run into my niece, and strike up a conversation. He was a really nice kid, a solid fellow. Then he vanished from the server completely and never logged in again; I didn’t think to mention it to him, after all it was just a bit of Minecraft. However; I noticed that my mom had found out he was on there, and was logging in and was building on that little island the kid was on. I didn’t think to check the logs at the time, but a few weeks later I called my mom and she was in Barboursville shopping at a Kmart; which is a long way to go for a Kmart. I was looking to spend some time with her, so I headed down there to see what she was doing; and what struck me as odd was that the kid’s mother was also at the Kmart at the exact same time with her new boyfriend, and my mother was maneuvering to avoid me while I was in the same store. I got upset with mom because she was avoiding me, and just went on my own, grabbed a few things, said “Hi” to the kid’s mom, then I left and made the hour and half long trip back home. In hind site; it just seems to coincidental, and the fact that mom was avoiding me was really not normal behavior for her.

A Clean Shaven Man

The night before my mothers wedding Ben Mitchell and Katlyn Ward came over and I had a few beers with my cousin; Katlyn did not drink, she wasn’t old enough, and I don’t think she really had the interest. So, I needed to clean up my hair, and was having Ben touch it up with the trimmers; since this was a bit of an occasion I didn’t want to do it myself. In my experience from the military dorms a guy can usually pull off a fade without any training, they know what they’re looking for, and can tell if they’re doing a good job on another guys hair. Well, Ben decided that he wasn’t going to be able to pull it off, and he turned it over to Katlyn. Everything was going pretty well for the first few minutes she was doing just fine, I also thought Ben was doing pretty well, but it was his decision to turn it over. So after a few minutes of touching it up, she all the sudden did this huge aggressive move in the middle back of my head; leaving a huge bald spot. They started laughing and making fun of me, which I found very upsetting since this was a bit of an important day for me, usually I wouldn’t care to cut it all off and just wait a couple weeks to start training it again, but this was my mother’s wedding. So, they where laughing and I was upset, I needed to solve the problem and not mess with it all night so I just shaved it off. It is something I have done several times in my life, I’m not a guy who hangs on looks to much. I shaved it off and moved on. Knowing what I know now, about the hatred my mother has for me, and how they set up the fraud with the fake will from my Grandmother, and the fact that Ben Mitchell kidnapped me from my Grandpa’s house after my Grandmother’s funeral; he did this to set me up at my mother’s wedding; where they drugged me and posed me as a Buddhist in front of their friends at the church. This was the wedding attended by Russel Walter Casto, who was at the time the Mayor of Nitro and the Magistrate of Kanawha County.

Do You Take This Man

My mother had asked me to be the photographer at her wedding, she knew I was skilled with at photography and had owned my own camera since my first paycheck from the Air Force. It was basically the second thing I had ever bought for myself as an adult. I had also used Photoshop for years, so I was skilled at lighting and color correction; my skills at photography where available for anyone to see across my social media accounts; traditional photography mind you. I had even developed several of my own prints in a dark room at this point. My skills where known. On the day of the wedding I was informed that she had hired another photographer to shoot the wedding, and also they where two people with video cameras; this was pretty upsetting. And honestly, no one needs four photographers to shoot a wedding. Also the night before my cousin Ben Mitchell had Katlyn Ward mess up my hair so I had to shave my head, not a very photogenic look. So, I’m not the photographer, and I look like crap; this is exactly what my mother; Teresa Mitchell, my uncle; Paul David Mitchell, and the Magistrate; Russel Casto wanted. They orchestrated the entire wedding to set me up and make me appear as though I was some kind of Anti-Chistian. They slipped me some kind of drug that zoned me out nearly half way through the wedding. When it came time for the vows she sent me up to take “care of the music” I went up and turned it on and waited for the track to play and the entire room full of people just starred and giggled at me, I was zoned out on their drugs they slipped me. At one point she sent me in to help “set up the kitchen”, this is when they put a child in the room alone with me and separated me from the main group. In the other room they said prayer; she had isolated me and excluded me from giving thanks for the meal. In reality, the prayer was a front; it was given in the other room as a cover so they could speak privately away from me; setting some child there in the room as some kind of decoy/distraction. I like kids, I love kids, kids are fantastic and wonderful and their curiosity provides us with extraordinary new perspectives; however, I know the people in that other room have a very different idea about what it means to “like kids”. The people in that other room, are child molesters and are engaged in child trafficking and child exploitation. I know this; because, I am one of their surviving victims.

The Battered Police Officer

One night my cousin Ben Mitchell called me up and had me come over for a few beers at his place in the apartments down the road, in Nitro; where Casto was Mayor, in Kanawha County, where Casto was Magistrate. Ben’s girlfriend at the time Christy worked at one of these places where people would take their pay check to be cashed and in the back where slot machines for them to gamble the entire thing away. She also had a friend, whose name I can’t recall; during the times when we would hang out it kind of felt like her friend and I where both third wheels, since I wasn’t into her and she wasn’t into me. Well, Ben and I where drinking and Christy was there; and for some reason Ben Mitchell called the police on me that night, I remember trying to understand what they where saying, and why they where upset. It was as if they where arguing with me, but I wasn’t putting up a fight; because, there wasn’t a coherent argument. I decided to leave and went out to my car and was about to start it when the officer showed up at my window; reached across me and knocked my keys out of my hand. I went to pick them up, they had fallen to the floor near the accelerator pedal. He opened my door and began reaching in and touched my hand, then he said “that’s battery on a police officer” and arrested me and took me to Russel Casto who was Mayor of Nitro and Magistrate of Kanawha County at the time. Casto sent me up to the South Central Regional Jail, I spent a day there and was released on personal recognizance; I still don’t know that means. The charges where public intoxication, obstruction of justice and battery on a police officer. While I was in jail I found out that Christy’s friend, the other third wheel; was an employee at the South Central Regional Jail.

I’m Lovin’ It

One time I went to pick up the Andrea and Travis’s kids to take them to the movies, we stopped at McDonald’s to get them something to eat since it was nearly 4 pm and they hadn’t had anything to eat today, according to them. There was some guy on a bicycle outside and he was filling up a jug with soda from the fountain by going in and out getting refills in a cup. My niece mentioned it to me, and I called him a crack head and we had a giggle; then as he came back inside my nephew repeated the word in a very non hushed tone, she leaned over and gave him a pinch. That’s the last thing I remember from that day. I have no memory of anything else that happened that day; we never made it to the movies. They had drugged me and sent me off with the kids in the car.

Let’s All Go Down to Doom Us

My mother invited me to take a trip to Barboursville once; she decided we should take all the nieces and nephews out for a day trip shopping at the mall; it’s about an hours drive from the west from Nitro; the western most side of the metropolitan area of of Charleston. We loaded into the cars, I took the boys and she took the girls; her suggested arrangement. We traveled down and stopped for a bite to eat at the mall, then she decided we should meet up at Target. She changed the seating arrangement to girls in my car, and boys in her car. So, we hopped in the car and headed down to Target; I knew the way well, I had been down there alot. I’m not the sort of person to drive in tandem with other cars; I consider myself a pretty good driver, and driving in and around those areas is posted at 65 to 70 miles per hour; but everyone does at least 80 and 90. I like to observe the speed limits; but I am more akin to keeping with the flow of things, it’s safer that way. Traveling at 20 to 30 miles per hour less than the pace of traffic is not safe for anyone. So, I took off and drove my normal style, just as any other day. She’s the sort that needs more time; has less situational awareness of her surroundings, fiddles with the radio and phone, things like that. I’ve never been able to travel in tandem with her; it’s just not safe for me to drive like that, honestly. I don’t think it’s safe for anyone to drive like that. I basically never want anyone to drive me; I’ll brake the rules if it avoids an accident. We arrived in the parking lot of Target, and I swung over to the Starbucks and ordered everyone something; also, to give her time to get there. She was texting us while we where traveling; so I just gave my phone to my niece and dictated the responses. She missed the exit and went down to far and got off on the wrong place; she ended up having an accident that day. She contacted Karen before contacting me; which I found odd. Once she told me she was in an accident and gave me the location, we jumped in the car and headed over there. Luckily there was no injuries, the other car was gone by the time I got there, which was less than 7 minutes or so from the time she told me. She was instructed by the insurance company to go to the rental place, so we put everyone in my car and went a few blocks west of the accident. They didn’t have a vehicle available, she needed to go to Charleston to pick up the rental. We put everyone in my car and started heading back; during this time Karen started texting us, somewhat frantically. She seemed very concerned that we where all in one vehicle; which, I was driving, so I didn’t understand the problem. I had someone text that we would meet them at the Wendy’s in Milton; since she was already in the area, somehow traversing an hour long drive in less than 15 minutes. I have no memory of arriving at the Wendy’s and dropping off Karen’s kids, I have no memory of taking Travis’s kids home, I have no memory of how that day ended. They had drugging me in an attempt to cause an accident and endanger the kids.

Third Times The Charm

D. W. Dalton was the responding officer to an emergency dispatch call that I placed, where I requested officer assistance in resolving an issue with a security guard. It was the day after the CDC had announced the end of “mask mandate”. I have a difference with the nomenclature “mask”, Batman wears a mask, bank robbers wear a mask, clowns wear a mask; people who are concerned about the transmission of communicable respiratory disease wear a respiratory filter. The only time I wear a mask is while I’m on the internet; because the people who are able to watch you have very little accountability, and so must have utmost integrity to carry the weight of such responsibly, and so must meet my standard of trust.

I went to the DMV and the clerk said “Mask Mandates Are Over”; that was the first thing I heard as I approached the window. This was the third time I went to get my drivers license renewed at Kanawha County Department of Motor Vehicles. I went two times before but I simply could not be asked to wait. I am a rather active individual and sitting in a chair for extended duration is simply adhorant; add to the fact that the chair is in a room of fifty to sixty people; hauling around children, family, pets, during the global pandemic; simply out of the question for me. I asked the clerk on the first and second attempts at renewal if there where any alternatives; I wanted to handle the matter quickly. I have a mental disposition that is referred to as schizo affective disorder; I occupy a different mental space than the majority. Any kind of stagnation in my mental process causes me suffering. It’s something I have trouble with on a daily basis because of the casual disposition of the majority of our society. I am also highly empathic, so when I am around people they’re mental state impends upon me and causes discomfort do to non-critical process of thought and emotional response. There’s also an abundance of people in our society that are attempting to operate on two subjective perspectives of reality at the same time, which also tramples all over my empatic nature.

“Mask Mandates Are Over”; whatever, I think it would be crazy for the any entity of the United States Government to order people to wear masks in the first place; it would simply be against the United States Constitution. If a government entity or official sent out an order that everyone must wear cloths it would equally be in contempt of United States Constitution. If a government entity passed down an order that everyone must walk forward; this too would be in contempt of the United States Constitution. The Constitution never gave the CDC the authority to take away or give back any such order. However; the majority of people aren’t aware of the rights as outlined in the Constitution, and so they where fooled by the appearance of authority. The CDC can only issue guidelines, people have seen to many movies and think that’s the way the United States works; this isn’t the case. Perhaps under Marshall Law this would be the case; however, at that point it wouldn’t be the CDC calling the shots; it would be the Joint Chiefs of Staff in control of the streets and public areas.

So, I was assaulted by a security guard; who thought he was acting under the authority of the CDC; who has no authority over me. I am a citizen of the United States of America. I have every right to choose whether or not to wear a respiratory filter in any public setting that I like, as long as that setting is under the protection of the United States Constitution.

It was my belief that being told to leave the DMV by the security guard; this third time I had attempted to renew my state issued identification card and commercial drivers permit while wearing a respiratory filter, constituted assault due to his erratic behavior. He came up to me face to face at a distance that was not much greater than the width of my stretched hand from pinky to thumb. If I placed my thumb on my nose I would have been able to touch his nose with the tip of my pinky; that is how close this man came up to me as he demanded that I leave the public space outside of the Department of Motor Vehicles; even as I was already in the process of leaving the public space before he demanded it. I turned and was walking away and he then walked behind me at a distance of less than a shoulders with. I could not walk away from him, he followed my every step. Mind you, this was my third attempt to renew at the DMV.

D.W. Dalton was the responding officer to my request for emergency assistance that day. Instead of rendering assistance, he walked up to me, and arrested me immediately. I had not seven seconds to speak to Officer Dalton. He did not ask me why I had contacted emergency dispatch with request for assistance; he did not ask me why I felt assaulted. He approached me; pointed to a spot on the ground and gave me an order to stand on that spot and demanded that I turn over my identification to him, then he grabbed my arm, took me outside to the foye’, placed me against the wall and put me in wrist restraints. He then instructed the other responding officer keep me secure and walked off down the hallway. I was transported to the Kanawha County Courthouse where I sat in the company of six police officers, I was chained to a bench for nearly two hours. I was finger printed, and after an extended period of time; so much time that I wasn’t even embarrassed to comment on the time in full view of the a room filled with officers. I was eventually taken to the courthouse where I was presented to Russel Casto, the Mayor/Magistrate; with whom I had, at this point, and extensive history. Russel Casto did not ask me about the Department of Motor Vehicles; Russel Casto did not ask me a single question. Russel Casto didn’t ask me what I was doing at the DMV, not a single question about anything that transpired at the DMV. He simply told me how much it was going to cost for my bail and asked if there was anyone for me to contact to pay it. I told him I had no one to contact and he told me he could set the bail to $50,000, I felt a moment of terror; then I looked in his eyes, I saw him feeding on my fear; then, I just flicked the paper back across the desk and told him it would make no difference. I saw him that day; I recognized him for the first time that day; I had seen this man time and time again over the last two decades. I knew him as Brittney’s Uncle; that weirdo at the Nitro pool, the guy at my Bob Evans; the guy from the night I had my ankle broken; and the guy that was at my Mother’s Wedding.

Time Served

While I was incarcerated in the South Central Regional Jail; I was placed in a cell that did not have a proper lock on the door, the locks on the doors in a jail are not only for the restraint of the inmates but also for their safety, the lock on the door will prevent other possibly dangerous inmates from entering the cell. The cell I was placed in also had no cold water at the tap, only warm water; so, in order to hydrate myself I had to put the water in a container and wait for it to cool down, or just drink warm water. The first meal I received was rancid, it was a piece of cornbread with sausage gravy I put what I thought to be a piece of sausage into my mouth and it tasted extremely rancid; I spit it out and was afraid to eat anything from that plate. The next day the intern brought me a hamburger which was filling, she had an extra and gave that to me as well. I assumed she knew that I had not eaten since the arrest at nearly 9 am the morning prior. I was extraordinarily thankful for her kindness. Nearly 48 hours had passed while alone, without being taken outside of my cell, I was not given any kind of exercise or recreation; I believe this is referred to as solitary confinement. On the second evening, two people where placed in the cell with me; from solitary to overcrowded. One of them was severely ill; he had lesions all over him and laid on the floor in a semiconscious state the entire time. I cooled water from the sink for him to drink, and pushed him to eat a few bites of food; he was very sick from heroin withdraw. The other guy took the top bunk and was willing enough to engage in conversation to keep me from feeling anxious. Despite the fact that the other people had been placed in the cell, there was still no recreation time; the three of us where confined to the cell the whole time. The temperature and humidity inside reached extremely uncomfortable levels. On the third evening the intern gave us trays of food and on the tray was a piece of cake; it was like a candy treat. After eating the cake I feel asleep immediately; when I woke up there was an incision on the back of my head, and a bump behind my left year. I was attempting to count the days; I believe I lost an entire day while I was incarcerated. I have a feeling the cake was laced with some kind of narcotic that put me to sleep for nearly 24 hours; I believe that during that time, they did something to the back of my ear and the back of my head. After being released the bump behind my ear swelled up into an infected boil and burst and leaked out over a few days; I had to deal with it for a week or so. The incision on the back of my head eventually healed over and is now a knot of what seems to be fatty scare tissue. I also contracted lice while I was there; I never had to deal with lice before, I thought you just shampooed them out but apparently that’s not enough at all. I purchased lice treatment three separate times before I realized I had to pretty much dowse my head with the entire bottle at once. Lice are way more aggressive that I had thought, they live on your cloths and your bed, and can live on your eye lashes and even nose hairs. I couldn’t believe the measures I had to go to get rid of the infestation, it was weeks. Sadly, now I’m an expert at it, and could probably nuke them in a single day. During that time I was tempted once again to cut off all my hair; however, I refused to take that route because of what Russel Casto, Teresa Mitchell, and Paul David Mitchell had done to me at the church. It would have played once again into these disgusting peoples Anti-Christian theme. I have no doubt that he played a roll in the foul treatment I received in jail. I still believe it was the compassion of the interns and the people who work the jail that saw how disgustingly wrong it was for me to be in there and to be receiving such treatment that saved me from that place. As powerful as he may be in Kanawha County, I don’t think the people of South Charleston where willing to go along with his persecution of me. Even though I lived in Malden/Rand, I spent all my time outside my home in South Charleston, so I think a lot of them recognized me from the community center, the shopping plaza, and the theater, I even attended church there once. I submitted paperwork for a Judicial Review of Russel Casto and my criminal history and requested they expunge my entire criminal record due to the fact that it was created by a single mayor/judge. The sad thing is, Russel Casto and D. W. Dalton along with the Kanawha County Clerks office still believe I need to appear and answer for the false charge of attacking a school kid. This is an obvious effort at misdirection on the part of the Russel Casto, D.W. Dalton and the Kanawha County Courthouse for their crimes of human trafficking. Let’s face it; they’re trafficking kids down there.

Like, Subscribe, Click the Bell

I took a brief look at Russel Casto’s Facebook page; I don’t think you have to dig to deep into it to see that he has several pictures of him with little kids, and pictures that he took at the pool. One thing I noticed is that the post with the most comments was of his “friend” who lost someone; however, I noticed that the post does not link to that persons Facebook page, it’s purely a post created by him. Usually on social media platforms you post a link to that persons page, or possibly a support or donations page, not this guy. He even doubled down and posted a few days later about how his “friend” was getting along; again several comments, likes, and views, still not linked to that persons account. I don’t think that in either of those posts one could find out who had lost someone, or who had passed. It’s unfortunate if it’s the truth; however, it seems apparently clear to me that these posts where there in order to solicit the compassion of the people who may have happened to see the feed of the Mayor of Nitro, rather than an authentic attempt to console or inform people of the tragic circumstances that befell this individual. People who use social media frequently refer to these type of posts as “click bait”. I personally have always found it disturbing when people attempt to capitalize on the misfortune of others. One of his posts mentions that his entire career has been characterized by the opioid epidemic; quite sanitary on the surface; however, this is the man with so much power in Kanawha County and rather than building a post and leveraging his power to assist people in this mental health crisis, he makes some impotent remark like this. Just some simple observation as he sits around throwing people in cages from one of the most prominent positions in the county. How many peoples lives have been ruined by tossing their children in jail rather than helping them find the assistance they need to remove these poisonous chemicals from their bodies. The entire economy in West Virginia is based around health care and government provided assistance to low income families; seems that it wouldn’t take much to leverage that economy and move toward a healthier environment for these children. In other states they don’t have the infrastructure already built out for government assistance; those states would need to build the government assistance programs into the health care system in order to leverage the powers of judication and litigation to facilitate a working solution. He’s basically obstructing anyone who feels compelled to take up the reigns and move West Virginia toward and more prominent and healthier future. Is there such a thing as “aggravated child abuse”?

Wha’ Chu Lookin’ At Bro?

So; why has Russel Casto held a two decades long interest in Raymond Edward Chandler? My Grandfather was a Freemason who worked for the American Electric Power Company as a welder for several years; on his land he had an oil well, he was a very wealthy man. A false will was created in 2005 by Heather Capart, and Teresa Mitchell; in the will it gave a disproportionate control of the assets to the Heather Capart and David Lee Mitchell Jr, the children of Paul David Mitchell Sr., and completely removed Teresa Mitchell’s children from any control of these assets. I was named in the will; however I was drugged by them during the reading and was never given a copy of the documents; I found the will in October 2018 in an abandoned house that my mother had left behind. It is my suspicion that the false will was created because my Grandfathers original will gave me complete control over the farm and the oil well due to the fact that I was the only Grandchild that ever wanted to be on the farm, the only Grandchild that ever came out and didn’t complain about working, the only Grandchild that ever gave them any respect. My mother was due to inherit the piece of his land that held the oil well, the uncles of the family where always on drugs and in jail for various reasons. As of now, I currently live in a trailer that she purchased, a broken down unmaintained mobile home from the 80s; I pay her rent each month; I payed her phone bill for years; meanwhile she purchased a $250,000, home three vehicles, a $160,000 home for my brother, and payed off my sisters home; all with cash. This is while I pay rent to her; pay her phone bill; and I struggled with student loans; car payment; and insurance. I payed for two family trips, one to Disney World, and one to Gatlenburg; which literally took me years to pay off. She and my sister completely remodeled their homes; two houses from top to bottom remodeled. While I lived in a $20,000 trailer in a ghetto. While here there has been a shooting, a stabbing, a car crashed into the property, and I’ve been broken into twice. All while she lives in a quarter million dollar home rubbing elbows with Russel Casto the Mayor/Magistrate of Kanawha County. The same Mayor/Magistrate that has overseen every case on my record. The same Mayor/Magistrate that has denied me due process in every case. The same Mayor/Magistrate that kicked me out of Nitro twice and ruined my ability to complete my GI Bill funded Degree from West Virginia State University. The same Mayor/Magistrate that placed false charges against me through officer D.W. Dalton; malicious assault on a child, no less, while denying me a public defender. The same Mayor/Magistrate that laughed and filmed and took pictures of me on his phone in the middle of the night while I was injured at a medical center. The same Mayor/Magistrate that is currently obstructing justice from me with respect to the entitlement fraud and elder manipulation of my Grandmother and Grandfather. This Mayor/Magistrate who has hired prostitutes and thugs to inject chaos into my life. Russel Casto, the Mayor/Magistrate of Kanawha County who is owned and controlled by Paul David Mitchell Sr.; the man who is trying to kill me.

The Volkswagen from Joe Holland

At the beginning of the Covid Pandemic; November 2019; I purchased a 2018 Volkswagen Tiguan from Joe Holland Volkswagen in Kanawha County, West Virginia; where Russel Casto was Magistrate. This was my 5^th Volkswagen that I had purchased; and the 3^rd I had purchased from Joe Holland; I was also in the habit of returning to Joe Holland for all maintenance on my Volkswagen since they are a certified dealer and use only certified parts. The Volkswagen only had around 35,000 miles on it when I purchased it; so there shouldn’t have been any issues with the vehicle. During the heart of the pandemic I locked down at home, I stored the vehicle in my garage with a cover on it after building a pantry. In October of 2018 I had discovered that my entire family had been involved in a massive fraud scheme to hide my Grandpa’s will and create a second fake will for my Grandma in order to hide my inheritance from me. During my investigation I discovered that Russel Casto the Mayor of Nitro and Magistrate of Kanawha County had been stalking me since the creation of the fake will in 2005. Russel Casto the Magistrate of Kanawha County had created a straw man account of me in the court system of Kanawha County; manipulated me by introducing thugs, drug addicts, and prostitutes into my life by placing them in the apartments around me in the city of Nitro where he was Mayor. It is my belief that Russel Casto used his position as Magistrate of Kanawha County, acting in his capacity as an employee of Paul David Mitchell Sr., and in cooperation with the Joe Holland Dealership, in order to sell me a vehicle that was intentionally damaged and potentially dangerous. The vehicle is now at 4500 miles and has had the following problems: Tires, Brakes, Rotors, Brake Sensor, Right Front Caliper, Left Passenger Door Hing, Rear Hatch Gas Struts, Intermittent Check Engine Light, Leaking Wiper Fluid, Wipers, Windshield, Exterior Lights, and Fuel Sensor Failure. There is also a radio signal being emitting from the drivers side dash board at a 16 second interval; the vehicle battery is not the primary power source for the signal; it continues when the battery is disconnected. I suspect the radio signal is a GPS locator that was installed under the direction of Russel Casto acting in his capacity as an employee of Paul David Mitchell Sr., who is in control of the family, who has stolen my inheritance, and who is attempting to kill me.

John Ray Dolin

I suspect that John Ray Dolin was murdered for what he knew. He married Teresa Mitchell when she was only 18 years old and they where together for nearly 11 years. He worked at a coal mine and was layed off and never called back. This lead him into a deep depression and alcohol use; they eventually separated. He was my Dad. He wasn’t very educated and wasn’t good at nurturing or anything like that; but I believe he was a passionate and kind person at his core. When I finished my active duty with the Air Force, I went to stay with some friends in Salt Lake for a bit; just to see another piece of the world before I went home. My mother told me that my Grandmother had become ill, and that she wasn’t going to be around much longer. I moved to Cincinnati and stayed in a tiny loft apartment and drove a fork lift at a wholesale box store, I went out to the farm to see her as often as I could. I also making plans to go see John Ray; I really wanted to reconnect with him to try and bring him out his depression. I wanted to help him to see the world and the possibilities available to him, to let him know that we all make mistakes and that’s normal, that we just have to accept them and make new choices to avoid making them again and again. I had been reading the Bible pretty heavily at the time, and I felt a strong need to help him understand that he can change if he wanted to. I was informed that he had died. He was found drowned in a vehicle in a river. My brother, Travis Dolin, told me that the police had reported that the vehicle veered quickly across the road before going into the river. The timing of his death was suspicious because it happened in 2005, the same year the fake will was created, only a year before my Grandmother died, only weeks before I had planned to reconnect with him after not speaking to him for twelve years. John Ray knew that there was oil and gas wells on my Grandpa’s property. My Grandpa loved John Ray very much; Grandpa told me himself when I was living with him just before he died. I suspect that my family knew that he would tell me the truth about my past; and that Grandpa had left me the farm, so they killed him. Just after I came back from the service; John Ray was killed; my mother had me to move to Nitro, where Casto was Mayor; they created the fake will; then my Grandmother died. Leaving me cut off from anyone who ever cared about me; surrounded by thieves, drug addicts, prostitutes, and cons.