Memorial Needed for U.S. Govt. Exp. Victims

I’ve brought this issue up before, but no one seemed to be interested.

But a memorial, museum, or whatever is needed for us victims.

I’ll be glad to be the treasurer for a short time, with funds strictly pre-designated for a memorial, or whatever, voted on by approximately five of us long time ti’s.

Nothing would be used for anyone’s personal use.

  1. A memorial is definitely one goal.

I would suggest a mission statement be first stated (like ending  targeting,  justice for victims, etc . . . ). I guess I’d have to write up a memo of understanding or something.

Anyway, if anyone is interested in helping out or submitting funds for a memorial, just send it here (mail it to my home address) and I’ll open an account at the bank and will give an accounting every quarter or so. And I’ll put it in my will that it transfers to another reputable ti.


Ken Lee


Persecuted But Not Forsaken Book: Chapter 5 (Mk-ultra victim)

Chapter 5 –Junior High School

I made it through Junior High School on talent because I sure didn’t study much.

I spent more time buying candies early in the morning at the drug store to take to school and sell them for a profit before the bus came.

I usually cleared 100%. Sweet-tarts, Jujubes, and an occasional candy bar would fill my bag to sell at school. And I would usually sell all.

Dad came back into my life about 1968 and tried to get me involved in a fraternity called the Knights of Pythias. I hated the indoctrination process.

It wasn’t me to become involved with a bunch of guys that raised hell, drank alcohol, and partied all weekend. I was more like mom, quite, reserved, intuitive, and a nature lover.

The first day of being a fraternal brother at Lake Taylor High School in the initiation process was too degrading for me, making me do pushups, carrying other kids’ books, etc . . . I was already being degraded by my targeting; the last thing I needed were co-students harassing me. I think I actually finished the initiation process one night when they made me drink a quart jar of something ungodly. And then I got flogged.

I don’t believe any of those actions prepared me for being a better person or enjoying fellowship: it reminds me of sadism, and the very actions I now fight against. But anyway, I participated in very little activities of the fraternity, choosing instead to be with my girlfriend Kitty.

I went with Kitty for several years in my teens and now I realized why I felt so comfortable with her in the den at her parent’s house: it was below ground and the electronic targeting couldn’t get to me.

One other memory I have that has been so prevalent was a shopping venture mom and I went on one Friday night after her work. Or maybe it was a Saturday. But anyway, the part I remember most was looking at and being able to select a race car set at a Sear’s store when I was about thirteen. So why is that etched on my mind?

It was below ground: I was less targeted.

What may have been a simple event to you reading this was a monumental one to me when I was free of electromagnetic targeting!

There have been certain geological areas where I felt free years later, but the perpetrators eventually covered those areas. One was the Nantahala Gorge in Western North Carolina, which was surrounded by cliffs. Another was a gap in the mountain near Cherokee. I could have stayed there for days enjoying the freedom.

About this time in 1969 Dad re-married, and I lived with him, Mary, and her son in Virginia Beach for a short time. Her son David was real cool and would take me out at night in his mustang. He eventually became a pastor. But he and dad really never got along too well.

While at Virginia Beach, I got a job at high volume gas station at Witchduck Road.

After the summer, I moved back home with mom.

To further complicate my life, forced school busing arrived in the city in 1970, and I would be bussed to an all black school, Booker T. Washington High School near downtown Norfolk

Looking at the dilapidated tilted bus with a near flat tire, exhaust smoke covering the road behind it, and students hanging out the windows made me want to turn around and go back home.

I pleaded with mom, “Mom. I can not go to that school. Is there any way you can send to the new private school that has formed up at the church.”

I’ll think about it,” she responded.

And that was the last I heard of it. But every time I passed the church on bicycle while delivering papers, I envied the little brown church where I could have gone to school.

I attended cross town Booker T. Washington High School for three days, and then I looked for greener pastures, I didn’t need fighting on the bus, mayhem in the classrooms, and the weapons that were exhibited by the students; so I decided that State of Florida would be a better place to spend my time.

So I found my neighborhood friend Brian and asked him to go with me. I had made my plans.

This school situation is not going to work. I can’t learn anything there and I think we ought to go somewhere else.”

Yea, and I’m getting sick of my mother telling me what to do,” he responded.

Meet me over in the field at the end of the turn around tomorrow morning.”

Brian and I met at the parking lot of our good old playground, and we took off in my newly bought Pontiac.

It took us quite some time to get to Florida because I took Route 17 nearly all the way.

We stayed for about three months, up until the time Brian was making his money getting his pictures taken by someone who used a hotel room off the boardwalk.

I got a little paranoid about it all, though I had a good job as a busboy with a rest home and making decent money. But I did get homesick for Kitty, and one day I told Brian I wanted to go back home. I had an empty feeling at our motel room, and I didn’t want anything to do with drugs that Brian was messing with.

One good thing that happened on the trip was that we had stopped off in Myrtle Beach, and I enjoyed the laid back atmosphere. I doubt it’s no accident I’ve made my home near there forty years later.

But anyway, when I got home, Mom was gone! There was no one at the house! And there were no signs of her being there!

I rushed up to the corner drugstore and called Kitty, and she said mom had moved to a neighborhood across the highway.

Groceries at $6.66

She and her daughter had a cartload of groceries in front of me at the express register counter and the mother said to me, “Go ahead. You just got a few items.”

“Oh, no, no .I’m not busy,” I responded. “I gave up hurry a long time ago,”

So the short blond hair clerk started scanning the groceries for prices, and the mother anxiously looked at the dollar number totals on the register computer terminal and exclaimed, “Oh, no! That was 666. Did you see that?”

The clerk frowned, bowed her head and continued to scan the food items.

“Oh, so you know about that system too?” I asked.

“I know it was 666 on there,” she said with blinking eyes and disbelief.

“Don’t matter, as long it’s not the total at the end.” I responded. “And as long as it ain’t on your driver’s license or car license plate!” I added.

She fumbled with her purse looking for more money as the total costs increased, then she pushed some items to the back for return while picking out two $20.00 bills.

You got four days worth of groceries,” I said trying to make her feel better.

“2 days! That’s all I got!” she exclaimed.

Finished paying, she loaded the groceries into the cart and found her way to her car,  on another hot and humid day under the worldly system of poverty and control in this small crime ridden town of America.

Small wrens didn’t care about the grocery store or the 666’s — but they did care about the heat as they scurried on the ground and fed under the shade of a magnolia tree.




Civil War Statues or Cell Phone Towers?

I chuckle when people want to eliminate American Civil War representative statues because they are reminded of slavery when 60′ cell phone antenna towers statues linger high above and enslave people with phone devices and radiaton to the human nervous system.

Now just how paradoxical is that?

Events like the one in Virginia and Alabama shows just how far society is being manipulated to destroy its own historical beginning to be a free people under the sovereignty of God.

But people have strayed so far from God or either never learned of God, they don’t know theological principles for life.

Being a fact of adolescence until maturity envelopes self-dependency, the servant slave is illustrated all through the holy scriptures as a child whose master is God Almighty!

But then we have man’s slavery.

Sure, the devil doesn’t want the public to be reminded of slavery!

Because it continues subversively through the air waves and he is guilty.

People — get focused on the battle of getting eliminated cell phone tower statues and you won’t be reminded of slavery!

A concrete or metal statue will not hurt you!




Loris Accident attempts

Twice last week people tried to cause accidents near the intersection of Coats Road and Route 410 in Loris. One car, a green older model car with two young men, was waiting in a driveway near Reece’s body shop, and when he saw me, pulled out and sped off real fast only to stop around the corner at the Jasmine in the middle of the road, where I would turn, and then a car in the opposite direction came at the same time he stopped ( I suppose to be an adverse witness). I stopped and blew the horn for him to go.

A couple days later, I was coming back from the senior center, turned off 410 onto Coats Rd, when a white older SUV suddenly did a U-turn and came in behind me! So I pulled off at the nearest road and stopped to let her go, but then she followed me and also stopped! So then I saw a cut off on to get back on Coats road and go home.

Both these people were trying to cause accidents. These are old country roads where there is usually no traffic.

The low frequency noise continues in Bayboro and I hope someone finds it and stops it.

Programmed Golf Champions

Golf. No one thinks golf can be rigged.

Yet most victims of remote technology know that em fields can be altered around people.

And it wouldn’t be a surprise to know the perpetrators alter them around the putting greens to keep certain names in the headlines.

Want someone to miss a putt? Just alter the fields.

And since all materials seem to be targeted, why not the golf ball and the cup it falls in? And can the synthetic grass greens also be targeted?

That wouldn’t surprise no one who has been a victim.



EMF Crisis Worsens – Should be a National Public Health Emergency

One lady says she can’t take it anymore – the pain from emf targeting is too much and no doctor will substantiate the injuries she receives from the assaults.

So she’s looking for a doctor – and coincidentally – one goes off and shoots other doctors in a local hospital near her in New York as the system picks it up.

Other victims are traveling to Green Bank to try and get relief from the emf assault, but the town is weary of the attention, and the government is talking about closing the emf free zone which so many involuntarily implanted and electro-sensitive individuals seek.

Another lady said she is being assaulted by ELF’s, which appears to be happening other places also.

These man-made radiation emissions in many cases are designed to oppress freedom seekers, send people to institutions or physicians, who don’t understand the problems and have no remedies – and therefore tax the health care system to profit the medical community – leaving the victim in fear, isolation, and sick.

The EMF assault is a national public health crisis.

The states issues national health emergencies for opiod usage but ignore the radiation emissions causing people to take opiods.

The emissions should be eliminated immediately.

Your county wireless provider is not your friend; neither is the power company with harmful power meters, and obviously not the environmental health agencies which do nothing to stop noise air, land, and emf pollution.






Was Jesus Drugged?

I found it interesting the author of the Jesus Papers researched and found the word Joseph used when asking for the “body” of Jesus was in fact a Greek word meaning “live” body — in contrast to the chief priest using a word indicating a “dead” body — in the translation of the Holy Scriptures.

So Jesus was still living on the cross, was the insinuation.

And then the author suggested that Jesus may have indeed been drugged, when offered the (vinegar?) on the sponge.

Many of us victims know that drugging is a continual exercise of the perpetrators.

And then how it wasn’t a coincidence for those people who loved Jesus to
bring all kinds of healing herbs after his death.

The Jesus Papers is an excellent book and I recommend it to anyone searching for truth.

Finding the Sanctuary of God

For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones (Isaiah 57: 15).

Many people think they find God by going out and doing good service, making wonderful things, or getting their name plastered in some conspicuous place.

But with finding God, it is just the opposite. And so God has confirmed this with the prophet Isaiah.

It’s a humbling attitude that finds God — separation to the holy one — whether from being in a car, in a boat on a lake, sitting on a sidewalk, or moreso in a quiet place in nature.

Where the soul is calm, the desires are gone, and lowliness that seeks nothing, does nothing, and even feels nothing.

Abstaining from personal desires to be with God’s Holy Spirit.

Each day should be dedicated to the Holy Spirit, because of a peace that transcends any worries or cares of the world, listening to the wisdom, strength, and good health by-products of the Holy Spirit.

Looking out at the waves of water this morning made me realize the peace of the Holy Spirit transcends anything on earth. Regardless of the events on earth, God is still God and in control of each of us, and wants good things for us.

Peace I leave with you, not as the world gives, said Jesus.