I'm going through the motions of my second jury trial on the same case. I have been held guilty until proven innocent for my entire case so far and I have lost everything that is anything to me in this world. I've lost my fiance because I couldn't be there to run our business and to take care of her and our bills while her hand healed. I lost my children to CPS over this accident. I've lost my home and my business. I sold my Harley for an attorney for my former fiancé so she could fight and get her children back. I have lost my freedom because some district attorney wants to believe what he thinks is right when the truth has been testified to over and over again by my former fiancé, my fiance's eight-year-old son, and myself.
Posts published in “Essays”
Not so long ago, many American kids dreamed of becoming cowboys - but of course few really did. Teenager Elliot Charles Adnopoz of 1940s Brooklyn, however, made his dream come true, running away from home…
I was born during the last part of World War II, in a town called Oostvoorne, The Netherlands on the North Sea along the English Channel in 1944 during the Allied invasion and bombings of Germany. The anti-aircraft guns and German bunkers were set up on our shore to shoot down Allied planes, and we lived right there. A Canadian pilot was shot down over the town and got hung up in a tree, and before the Germans could get to him, Dutch people who lived nearby rescued him and brought him to my father and asked to hide him.
Your Off-The-Record dated July 30th, 2014 mentioned the percentage of guys incarcerated without any possibility of release at right around 20%. There are those whose release from prison would always be some sort of a…
Holly Madrigal made a decision in 2000 that would change her life. She headed home to Willits after college instead of moving to Silicon Valley, where many of her fellow economics majors at the University…
A couple of weeks back I went on a walk with some of the people who are opposed to the proposed logging plan on Mendocino County's Little River Airport property. I have mixed feelings about…
Whenever the first days of August arrive I think of Uncle Leonard. Actually, Leonard Roy Ward was my great uncle, Mother’s side. He was born at the dawn of the twentieth century and by the time Pearl Harbor brought the US into World War II, Leonard had lived several lifetimes full of adventure as a gambler and rodeo cowboy.