Barbara Hartwell

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Independent Investigator, Intelligence Analyst, Journalist. Former CIA (NOC, Psychological Operations.) Black Ops Survivor. Sovereign Child of God. Believer in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Exposing Government Lies, Crimes, Corruption and Cover-ups.

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Screwdrivers, Icepicks & Assorted Goons





From NewsHawk, 1999

Screwdrivers, Icepicks & Assorted Goons

Preface by John Quinn, Newshawk

Our recipient Barbara Hartwell, who has done a tremendous amount of investigatory research into mind-control projects and related things like ritualistic sexual abuse of children, carried out by fascistic, covert elements of our ever-so-friendly federal government and their intelligence agencies, and who has suffered continual and OUTRAGEOUS intimidation tactics, harassment, threats, and malicious actions for her efforts, sends us this update on what's been going on with her, and with the tires on her cars. 

Sheesh. And we thought WE had it rough. Hang in there Barbara; it can only get worse. (Just trying to lighten things up). But seriously, folks; close your eyes and try to imagine this happening to YOU; and then try to conceive of HOW this kind of activity can be going on in what was once "SUPPOSED" to be a "free" country.

Dear Friends,

Here's the latest. Just a little anecdote and of relatively minor importance, considering the BIG picture of life in the trenches. But I just couldn't let it pass, since if nothing else it helps me to vent my anger and frustration. And saves me the trouble of recording this in my journal of ongoing sabotage and harassment. Possibly even helps me keep my sense of humor. (What's left of it.)

I have been debilitated for the past 2 weeks, mostly due to flare ups of a serious neck/back injury which happened in 1998 when my car was totalled in an "arranged" crash. Yesterday, though I can still barely walk, I needed to get to the store, since my cats needed food and litter. When it comes to my cats, I do what I have to do, no matter what. I went out to my car, and as always, checked the tires. No problem.

I drove to the gas station in Woodstock, where I filled the tank. I then proceeded to the supermarket. When I came out to the parking lot I saw that my left front tire was going flat. So I went back to the gas station. The attendant checked the tire and informed me that the tire could NOT be patched, but needed to be replaced. When I asked why, he said "Looks like it was slashed with an ice pick."

The puncture was in the side wall. The guy filled it with air and said I could probably make it home since it's only a few miles. Since I have no money to replace the tire, I had no choice. I made it home, thank God.

Every time I get into my car I pray for divine protection, and that in my travels I will harm no creature (other people or animals I meet on the road). And my prayers have always been answered. If I thought it was a reasonable request, I'd pray that the goons would just get off my case and leave me and my car alone. But I don't want to push my luck.

In January 1999 I managed to get another used car, the one I have now, after the last one was totalled by the arranged crash. (And that's a story you'll love, but must wait for another time.) A friend drove me to the car dealer and we checked the tires, as always. These tires were brand new. No problem.

My friend followed me in his car back to Woodstock, just to make sure nothing happened on the way. I went to do my laundry, then while the wash was in the dryer, I drove to the supermarket (same one, Woodstock Grand Union). As I came out into the lot, I noticed that my right rear tire was leaking air. It was a very loud hiss, that's why I noticed it.

While I was kneeling down looking at the tire, a man approached me from behind. He said to me "Look, there's a screw in your tire!" I looked. Sure enough, a screw.

I went to the nearest gas station (same one I always go to). It was around 9:30 PM, but thank God, the place was still open. The mechanic on duty looked at the tire. He removed the screw. It was a BRAND NEW SHINY SCREW and was screwed in right to the hilt. No accident here. I knew that, and what's more so did the mechanic.

I asked the mechanic if he would be my witness. Just to say that he felt it UNLIKELY that a brand new, shiny screw, could have "accidentally" been screwed to the hilt into my brand new tire on the first day I picked up my new (used) car. Not only was he willing to be my witness, he was willing to sign an affidavit, once I explained a little about my background and confided to him that this was not an unusual occurrence in my life.

Again, my prayers were answered. An angel of God, working at the gas station! (In other words, a decent human being who did not think I was a nutcase.) He patched the tire and I was on my way. 

Thank God, once again, I made it home safely. But not without the latest message delivered by the goons: SCREW YOU.

(I still have the screw. It's in a plastic evidence bag, among my growing collection of tokens of the esteem of my adversaries.)

In the past 6 years, I have lost 6 cars, compliments of the vandalism of these hardworking goons who never let an opportunity pass to cost me money I don't have and keep me from getting where I need to go. 

Skulking around in parking lots with their little screwdrivers and icepicks must be a challenging and rewarding job. I can only hope they wake up....and that they do so BEFORE I manage to catch one of these guys in the act.

This lucky guy --perhaps even ordained by God for the privilege-- will surely make my day. Meanwhile, I'll just keep praying for divine protection and try to keep my sense of humor intact...though I must admit, it's fading fast.

Thanks for listening and God bless,
 

Barbara Hartwell
1999