Posts
Tuesday
It's 6:17 now. I havejust a few minutes here.
I woke after a below average Memorial Day Weekend at 5:00 am and now race through the morning so I can beat the Memorial Day ferry traffic, investigate all day, then tonight... teach Private Investigation investigation at a major University with two other people.
This our last class. The biggie, because we give the Test.
Actually I give the P.I. Licensing Test because I am licensed PI trainer for the State of Washington.
I have one other teacher join me when we give the test. She has represented a few serial killers and is known as one of the best criminal defense Investigators in the nation. And she is a far faster test grader than me, much funnier too (if that's possible)... and together, we have a methodology, a quiet synchronicity as we give our students, watch them take it, make them all leave the room, and quickly, solemnly grade them, review them... and just about graduate them P.I.'s by the time the days' end.
It is huge day for them after a full year of classes once a week at nights, after their 8 hr work days. They drive from all over the state, weary, hungry, sick, wiped out...some too tired to talk, others dosing up on caffeine for three more hours.
This is what they do to make a career change. This is what our students, who I honor now with this blog, are doing to become better people, providers, P.I's. They will graduate are moral ethical, well studied, professional PI's from the ages of 20 through their 80's this year... who will follow the law, protect their client and their client's attorney's from crossing legal boundaries they may not be aware of.
Like the Marines, I tell them, "some of you will make it as full time PI's. Some of you will not."
The telling is in the time and testing of your soul and spirit... lessons to learn, an an ability to rebound, to overcome the terror that often hits a PI newbie.
It is a big day for me too.
But first, stop a place called Convington Washignton. DUI.
Second stop a place called Maple Valley. Pedestrian Hit.
Third stop a place called Bell Town. Another DUI.
Fourth stop the University's campus and class.
Fifth stop home.
Leave at 5:00 am return at midnight.
Welcome to a PI's world.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Monday, May 28, 2012
Resurfacing
The blog is back. I'm getting emails, messages and most important... rumblings inside that are stirring me to open this door again.
There's way to much to much to be said about the good, bad and ugly state of ourselves, our relationships with others and this planet.
Bookmark this page, come back.
Watch it grow and expand to a website.
It will be a place where people who fight for justice and people who seek it can co mingle, email, get questions answered.
Meantime, I open with a song to honor this day and our fallen and still standing heroes.
There's way to much to much to be said about the good, bad and ugly state of ourselves, our relationships with others and this planet.
Bookmark this page, come back.
Watch it grow and expand to a website.
It will be a place where people who fight for justice and people who seek it can co mingle, email, get questions answered.
Meantime, I open with a song to honor this day and our fallen and still standing heroes.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Just keep at it.
This blog is a living example of how you just have to keep at something if you want it to happen.
I've been at the blog for quite some time.
I wrote profusely.
Posted devoutly.
Then disappeared.
That's because PI work is so unpredictable it often comes down to one of two things:
sleep or write.
Now I am at the precipice, walking this tightrope...
because as I grow older, I see clearer now.
Sometimes you gotta' do what you WANT to do.
This would be one of the moments.
And this blog would be one of those things.
I do not want this blog to fade into oblivion.
Now is the time to breathe life into it -- with a quick post before I head off on a whole bunch of cases.
Stay safe out there today and stay on your toes.
Life is, after all, a tightrope.
I've been at the blog for quite some time.
I wrote profusely.
Posted devoutly.
Then disappeared.
That's because PI work is so unpredictable it often comes down to one of two things:
sleep or write.
Now I am at the precipice, walking this tightrope...
because as I grow older, I see clearer now.
Sometimes you gotta' do what you WANT to do.
This would be one of the moments.
And this blog would be one of those things.
I do not want this blog to fade into oblivion.
Now is the time to breathe life into it -- with a quick post before I head off on a whole bunch of cases.
Stay safe out there today and stay on your toes.
Life is, after all, a tightrope.
Friday, December 9, 2011
"Lights Will Guide You Home"
I know a couple people right now who are lost in the darkness.
They can't find their way home because it is dark in their heads and they are only looking inwards.
When you are depressed, anxious, lost, afraid...
look outside yourself.
There are lights there...
in a star...
a candle...
a beacon...
a child's drawing.
There can be light at the other end of a phone...
in an email...
in your favorite food...
a conversation...
a book...
a movie...
a smile...
or a great piece of music.(see below)
Too many people are giving up.
That's because they are not looking for the lights.
Light is all around us.
In life...
just like in death...
lights will guide you home.
You just have to look hard sometimes to see those little beacons of hope.
They can't find their way home because it is dark in their heads and they are only looking inwards.
When you are depressed, anxious, lost, afraid...
look outside yourself.
There are lights there...
in a star...
a candle...
a beacon...
a child's drawing.
There can be light at the other end of a phone...
in an email...
in your favorite food...
a conversation...
a book...
a movie...
a smile...
or a great piece of music.(see below)
Too many people are giving up.
That's because they are not looking for the lights.
Light is all around us.
In life...
just like in death...
lights will guide you home.
You just have to look hard sometimes to see those little beacons of hope.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Poison
Before I hit the road, I'll hit the blog with some music. I think it's the perfect accompaniment for today's cases and mindset.... being, domestics. Domestic cases involved people within families and relationships in conflict -- who sometimes who bring deadly harm to their own.
Poison has always a popular way to do a nemesis in. In fact, I have known a few people in my career who have allegedly been poisoned. Two by their lovers for certain.
So when I came across the following song, I saved it for the day, I had to hit both the blog and road fast.
This would be that song.
It's not for kids, way too adult for that.
Besides.... kids have plenty of evil schemes of their own, why inject even more diabolical concepts in to their impressionable minds?
It's just this song has a a deeper meaning to me.
It does speak of poisons of the body.
It also sings of poisons to the mind...
and how toxic relationships can truly be.
Before you leap into love...
study the pit first.
You can't know a person... truly know a person.... until the first blush, hormones, madness of love wears off.
Some people are gifts to the planet and your life.
Others, are simply... poison.
Poison has always a popular way to do a nemesis in. In fact, I have known a few people in my career who have allegedly been poisoned. Two by their lovers for certain.
So when I came across the following song, I saved it for the day, I had to hit both the blog and road fast.
This would be that song.
It's not for kids, way too adult for that.
Besides.... kids have plenty of evil schemes of their own, why inject even more diabolical concepts in to their impressionable minds?
It's just this song has a a deeper meaning to me.
It does speak of poisons of the body.
It also sings of poisons to the mind...
and how toxic relationships can truly be.
Before you leap into love...
study the pit first.
You can't know a person... truly know a person.... until the first blush, hormones, madness of love wears off.
Some people are gifts to the planet and your life.
Others, are simply... poison.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
24/7
Being a PI is really a 24/7 job.
You never know when trouble happens....or is about to.
Whether you're on a surveillance, running a background, or banging on doors to find a witness, serve a subpoena, whatever...
so much of it happens in dark places after dark.
And here in the Pacific Northwest corner of the US...
which we also call the Great Northwest because it is truly great to those who love storms and moss on the soles of our shoes...
the work is often done under gray skies, soaked streets, teeming rain or black ice.
This is a land of water, evergreens, rivers, mountains and farmlands.
WA State is big and vast and my work territory is all of it.
On TV, PI work seems so glamorous.
Truly NOT.
It's not glamorous to step over a pile of pee in the hallway of housing unit run by a slumlord.
It's no fun being a blond woman approaching or passing a group of male gang-bangers.
And it's not my idea of good time knocking on a door that could be answered by a charging pitbull...
or sitting on seat that could have a hypodermic needle on it.
Or talking to someone twenty years younger than you who looks twenty years older because of the drugs they've injected.
Fortunately, you spend enough time at this business and you learn just how to handle these things.
And you learn when to say No. So sorry. No can, No will, Don't wanna', think I'll pass.
That's because PI's can say no.
Police can't.
When I am sent somewhere by an attorney, or on a case that takes me off a main road...
into the northwest wilderness...
and the road is all mud and gravel...
the trailers I pass show indications of drug manufacture...
the signs along the way say "Go Away"....
I tend to go away.
Because I can.
I don't back down often, however, it is my choice whether to deal with something uber dangerous or not.
Police don't have that choice.
They are told where to go, when.
They know every call, every stop they make, could be their last.
Yet still, they go in...
and that's why so many police die.
Protecting us, from ourselves.
PI work gives PI's autonomy and independence police don't have.
When we are self employed, we can say to our employers that powerful word, "No."
And when we say no, the worst thing that happens is they send another investigator in.
Still, the job never leaves our heads.
I imagine the head part is similar to being a cop.
Being a PI is not 9-5 and never will be unless you go to someone else's PI Agency and work for them. Even so, you will be working odd ours.
The hard part is getting it all out of our heads when it is time to go to that place called "home."
Police have staff psychologists, therapists, stress consults.
PI's have nada except other PI's.
Or blogs, lol,
Be careful out there today.
And if you are inside, warm and safe count your blessings.
Alot of people out there are physically, psychologically, emotionally and financially hurting.
This is a time for compassion not capitalism...
It's a season for consideration... for respecting those who need respect the most.
The fallen.
24/7.... even when I dream... I have someone in my head who hurts.
Or needs help, advice, direction.
A real PI's life is not like a TV show or movie you step away from.
You are one with the force, be it good or bad, all the time.
You never know when trouble happens....or is about to.
Whether you're on a surveillance, running a background, or banging on doors to find a witness, serve a subpoena, whatever...
so much of it happens in dark places after dark.
And here in the Pacific Northwest corner of the US...
which we also call the Great Northwest because it is truly great to those who love storms and moss on the soles of our shoes...
the work is often done under gray skies, soaked streets, teeming rain or black ice.
This is a land of water, evergreens, rivers, mountains and farmlands.
WA State is big and vast and my work territory is all of it.
On TV, PI work seems so glamorous.
Truly NOT.
It's not glamorous to step over a pile of pee in the hallway of housing unit run by a slumlord.
It's no fun being a blond woman approaching or passing a group of male gang-bangers.
And it's not my idea of good time knocking on a door that could be answered by a charging pitbull...
or sitting on seat that could have a hypodermic needle on it.
Or talking to someone twenty years younger than you who looks twenty years older because of the drugs they've injected.
Fortunately, you spend enough time at this business and you learn just how to handle these things.
And you learn when to say No. So sorry. No can, No will, Don't wanna', think I'll pass.
That's because PI's can say no.
Police can't.
When I am sent somewhere by an attorney, or on a case that takes me off a main road...
into the northwest wilderness...
and the road is all mud and gravel...
the trailers I pass show indications of drug manufacture...
the signs along the way say "Go Away"....
I tend to go away.
Because I can.
I don't back down often, however, it is my choice whether to deal with something uber dangerous or not.
Police don't have that choice.
They are told where to go, when.
They know every call, every stop they make, could be their last.
Yet still, they go in...
and that's why so many police die.
Protecting us, from ourselves.
PI work gives PI's autonomy and independence police don't have.
When we are self employed, we can say to our employers that powerful word, "No."
And when we say no, the worst thing that happens is they send another investigator in.
Still, the job never leaves our heads.
I imagine the head part is similar to being a cop.
Being a PI is not 9-5 and never will be unless you go to someone else's PI Agency and work for them. Even so, you will be working odd ours.
The hard part is getting it all out of our heads when it is time to go to that place called "home."
Police have staff psychologists, therapists, stress consults.
PI's have nada except other PI's.
Or blogs, lol,
Be careful out there today.
And if you are inside, warm and safe count your blessings.
Alot of people out there are physically, psychologically, emotionally and financially hurting.
This is a time for compassion not capitalism...
It's a season for consideration... for respecting those who need respect the most.
The fallen.
24/7.... even when I dream... I have someone in my head who hurts.
Or needs help, advice, direction.
A real PI's life is not like a TV show or movie you step away from.
You are one with the force, be it good or bad, all the time.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Pedal to the Metal
I apologize for disappearing. I was struggling between writing a book or expanding this blog.
It looks like the blog has won.
Being a full time PI, rather busy right now, what I need most is time and added brain power to pull off this expansion.
So, the progress will be slow and steady...
as I get up to speed on how to monetize and best utilize this medium for my message.
There's a comments section after each blog post.
Feel free to use it... it helps on a number of levels...
and share this link with anyone you choose.
The ultimate goal is to provide information to as many as I can...
because information is power.
It's what can save a life..
or destroy it.
The following video is way too grim to post on Facebook.
I figured it was the perfect addition before I head out to investigate a tragic vehicle accident today.
Remember, there are no real holidays for police, first responders, paramedics, life flight pilots and their med teams, er docs, hospital staff and most of all...
the innocent victims of guilty people who text and make calls while they drive... eat while they drive...
drag race.
There is no text, no call, no need greater on this planet ...when driving... to keep your hands on the wheels, your eyes focused and keep a safe distance from the loose cannons and semi's on the road.
Truth is, we never know when some distracted, drunk or deviant driver could take us, or a whole whole family out.
I was driving last night with a car full of people I love, in the rain, the cold, on freeways, up a mountain.
And I felt their lives in my hand.
Nothing felt better last night, besides an incredibly great Thanksgiving dinner and evening with equal great people...
than to get everyone safely home....
get my car parked and know...
we lived to see another day.
Doesn't take a brain surgeon to see, I am quite passionate about this subject.
That's because I have investigated not hundreds, but thousands of motor vehicle accidents.
I get the concept.
Car = missile.
Now we must pass the equation on to our young, our new drivers....
the ones devouring video games about car racing, grand theft of the auto variety...
and of course, all the fast and furious movies that make me furious, because we are creating a whole new generation of reckless, young drivers who think they are all that...and a bag of chips.
The video below is not easy to watch.
It is powerful and it is important.
It's what I see on the job.
And it's what you might consider showing a young cocky driver with his or her first car.
Thanks for coming back to the blog.
You will keep it going... and growing... just by showing up.
Please feel free to share this link.
There are some mighty thick heads we all have to get through to.
It looks like the blog has won.
Being a full time PI, rather busy right now, what I need most is time and added brain power to pull off this expansion.
So, the progress will be slow and steady...
as I get up to speed on how to monetize and best utilize this medium for my message.
There's a comments section after each blog post.
Feel free to use it... it helps on a number of levels...
and share this link with anyone you choose.
The ultimate goal is to provide information to as many as I can...
because information is power.
It's what can save a life..
or destroy it.
The following video is way too grim to post on Facebook.
I figured it was the perfect addition before I head out to investigate a tragic vehicle accident today.
Remember, there are no real holidays for police, first responders, paramedics, life flight pilots and their med teams, er docs, hospital staff and most of all...
the innocent victims of guilty people who text and make calls while they drive... eat while they drive...
drag race.
There is no text, no call, no need greater on this planet ...when driving... to keep your hands on the wheels, your eyes focused and keep a safe distance from the loose cannons and semi's on the road.
Truth is, we never know when some distracted, drunk or deviant driver could take us, or a whole whole family out.
I was driving last night with a car full of people I love, in the rain, the cold, on freeways, up a mountain.
And I felt their lives in my hand.
Nothing felt better last night, besides an incredibly great Thanksgiving dinner and evening with equal great people...
than to get everyone safely home....
get my car parked and know...
we lived to see another day.
Doesn't take a brain surgeon to see, I am quite passionate about this subject.
That's because I have investigated not hundreds, but thousands of motor vehicle accidents.
I get the concept.
Car = missile.
Now we must pass the equation on to our young, our new drivers....
the ones devouring video games about car racing, grand theft of the auto variety...
and of course, all the fast and furious movies that make me furious, because we are creating a whole new generation of reckless, young drivers who think they are all that...and a bag of chips.
The video below is not easy to watch.
It is powerful and it is important.
It's what I see on the job.
And it's what you might consider showing a young cocky driver with his or her first car.
Thanks for coming back to the blog.
You will keep it going... and growing... just by showing up.
Please feel free to share this link.
There are some mighty thick heads we all have to get through to.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Bad Neighbors
During my interviews lately, I am meeting a lot of good people in nice houses.
My interview always involves establishing "rapport"-- a mutual respect for the subject of that interview.
The goal is to elicit information and to assess the credibility of the person I am talking to, which reflects on the credibility of information provided.
So lately...
in the last couple of years...
I am encountering a similar situation which I now wonder is a trend before I head out for the day.
The scenario goes something like this:
I meet someone in their house somewhere for an interview.
This person lives in a nice, decent house. Often an impressive house, meticulously kept, lots of property, fencing. Almost always a dog or two.
Yet their lovely little house may have a dilapidated, unkempt house behind it.
Or a property behind it spotted with trailers.
Often these secret properties are hidden by bushes, walls, fences, even chain links between trees.
Whatever that dark place behind to my subject's property is...
behind the barbed, or broken wood plank fences, h there are bad people in crack houses or meth labs.
And when those bad people get high at night, like vampires and zombies, they are not good to their neighbors.
So this one man I was interviewing recently, is a very good person fixing up a foreclosure and living in it during the process. His goal is to turn the property in three months.
It has a backyard retaining wall.
He didn't know, until after he bought the place that behind that retaining wall, is a small house surrounded by multiple trailers occupied by many people.... all related, of all ages, who are allegedly manufacturing crack.
He has since heard them referred to as a crime family.
Though this man I was interviewing, he didn't know how evil they were when he filed one police report against them.
Nor did he realize his identifying information would be on that police report.He has been haunted ever since.
Like a pack of wolves hungry for food at night, this tribe of whacked out, drugged out dope heads wanders by his house, gun their antiquated engines as they drive by the front yard.
And there are other things they do I can not describe here. The police are doing their best, yet still can do vitually nothing.
They lock some up,
Others stay home and crimes contnue to multiply.
There are bails paid, people released and victims harassed.
Crime is how some families earn their livings.
"What can I I do" he asks me, after I listen to this story and tell him I can see it is getting to him for good reasons.
He lives alone. He's a big tough guy, mid-40's.
The police can only protect him so much.
Once meth and crack kick in, so does the danger.
"Move," I tell him.
"You live alone. Nothing's stopped them.You have cameras, guns, motion detectors, alarm systems, dogs and still these guy are driving you crazy. The police have told you how dangerous they are, they have an investigation underway. Either stay and risk damage or death. Or go. Sell your house, rent your house, walk away from your house... but get away with your life."
I know he wanted to stand his ground. He has every right to.
But why be the lone outpost surrounded by hostiles with no cavalry available?
He was told by the police to just stay away, there's big stuff going down.
When I am advised by a police detective they are looking at the same subject I am on a "higher, inter-organizational, multi-jurisdictional level"....
I am respectfully asked to step away, lest I compromise any ongoing investigation....
I graciously and respectfully step away.
I suggested he do the same.
Truth be told, I have no clue what he will do.
He is stuck between a rock and a hard place in this economy.
Will he be Custer and make his house is last stand?
Or will he retreat, as I have , from a growingly hostile and crowded urban environment.
The same environment I must head back to now on a case...
My interview always involves establishing "rapport"-- a mutual respect for the subject of that interview.
The goal is to elicit information and to assess the credibility of the person I am talking to, which reflects on the credibility of information provided.
So lately...
in the last couple of years...
I am encountering a similar situation which I now wonder is a trend before I head out for the day.
The scenario goes something like this:
I meet someone in their house somewhere for an interview.
This person lives in a nice, decent house. Often an impressive house, meticulously kept, lots of property, fencing. Almost always a dog or two.
Yet their lovely little house may have a dilapidated, unkempt house behind it.
Or a property behind it spotted with trailers.
Often these secret properties are hidden by bushes, walls, fences, even chain links between trees.
Whatever that dark place behind to my subject's property is...
behind the barbed, or broken wood plank fences, h there are bad people in crack houses or meth labs.
And when those bad people get high at night, like vampires and zombies, they are not good to their neighbors.
So this one man I was interviewing recently, is a very good person fixing up a foreclosure and living in it during the process. His goal is to turn the property in three months.
It has a backyard retaining wall.
He didn't know, until after he bought the place that behind that retaining wall, is a small house surrounded by multiple trailers occupied by many people.... all related, of all ages, who are allegedly manufacturing crack.
He has since heard them referred to as a crime family.
Though this man I was interviewing, he didn't know how evil they were when he filed one police report against them.
Nor did he realize his identifying information would be on that police report.He has been haunted ever since.
Like a pack of wolves hungry for food at night, this tribe of whacked out, drugged out dope heads wanders by his house, gun their antiquated engines as they drive by the front yard.
And there are other things they do I can not describe here. The police are doing their best, yet still can do vitually nothing.
They lock some up,
Others stay home and crimes contnue to multiply.
There are bails paid, people released and victims harassed.
Crime is how some families earn their livings.
"What can I I do" he asks me, after I listen to this story and tell him I can see it is getting to him for good reasons.
He lives alone. He's a big tough guy, mid-40's.
The police can only protect him so much.
Once meth and crack kick in, so does the danger.
"Move," I tell him.
"You live alone. Nothing's stopped them.You have cameras, guns, motion detectors, alarm systems, dogs and still these guy are driving you crazy. The police have told you how dangerous they are, they have an investigation underway. Either stay and risk damage or death. Or go. Sell your house, rent your house, walk away from your house... but get away with your life."
I know he wanted to stand his ground. He has every right to.
But why be the lone outpost surrounded by hostiles with no cavalry available?
He was told by the police to just stay away, there's big stuff going down.
When I am advised by a police detective they are looking at the same subject I am on a "higher, inter-organizational, multi-jurisdictional level"....
I am respectfully asked to step away, lest I compromise any ongoing investigation....
I graciously and respectfully step away.
I suggested he do the same.
Truth be told, I have no clue what he will do.
He is stuck between a rock and a hard place in this economy.
Will he be Custer and make his house is last stand?
Or will he retreat, as I have , from a growingly hostile and crowded urban environment.
The same environment I must head back to now on a case...
Monday, October 24, 2011
Musical Confession
Decided to start this week with an old, very old favorite.
The self-defense angle is fascinating.
Who shot the sheriff?
Either this confession is true or false...
or someone else is holding the bag, or other gun.
Maybe the confessor is deflecting.
I never seen a confession like this once... and it is certainly melodious, albeit incriminating.
Regardless, a word of advice, before beginning my day's work and hitting the long road....
singing your murder confession is not likely to be helpful to your case.
The self-defense angle is fascinating.
Who shot the sheriff?
Either this confession is true or false...
or someone else is holding the bag, or other gun.
Maybe the confessor is deflecting.
I never seen a confession like this once... and it is certainly melodious, albeit incriminating.
Regardless, a word of advice, before beginning my day's work and hitting the long road....
singing your murder confession is not likely to be helpful to your case.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
The Blogger's Back in Town
I missed the blog... and decided not to let it go into hiatus for a number of reasons I will spare you.
Let's just say life is an ocean and I ride its ebbs and tides. When a storm comes, I prepare for it...
batten down those hatches, secure those loose lines, turn bow into the wind.
Today marks one such shift in the weather.
I woke to a very dark and moody Pacific Northwest morning with three things on my mind.
Coffee, murder and mayhem.
The coffee, available in the kitchen.
The murder in a case file in front of me.
The mayhem in the various corners of this beach house on the bay.
Today I decided to quietly reignite the blog or a number of reasons.
In this cyber world it's a good way to send smoke signals to the planet on a daily basis.
And readership logs indicate readers world wide.
Legend has it, a blog is also a good way to make money.
However I haven't had the time or inclination to figure that angle out yet.
Bottom line, the blog is back...
and I'm glad whoever is reading this is back too.
The world's become askew as of late.
We need places to we can seek solace or cover.
We need sources to fuel our insatiable appetite for information.
And we need to help others.
In the days ahead, the blog... and my P.I. business... will be growing.
It's my way of adapting to the depression we're in....
which, for some reason, the government and politicians prefer to call a recession.
While I'm glad a whole slew of old dictators have left the planet and the troops are pulling out of Iraq, that's not going to help the state of our economy, the amount of war, famine, illness, injury, unemployment and disenchantment among us.
The American economy can and will continue to tank.
I'm the first to admit P.I.'s are not necessarily he most optimistic of people because we see the worst side of life.
However, most of us love what we do because we believe we make a difference. And we often do.
I also think people who read this blog, think about the same way I do.
We need to team up to stay safe and grounded in an unstable world which is rapidly becoming even more unhinged.
So come back every day and I will too.
Share the blog with you anyone you'd like it and help me build readership so we can all spread information that can help save lives...
or lighten those hard or lonely lives burdened by the dark side.
These are not easy days...
Let this blog be a place of both retreat and information to keep you safe.
And a place I can offload the words and images that can haunt the head of a PI.
Let's just say life is an ocean and I ride its ebbs and tides. When a storm comes, I prepare for it...
batten down those hatches, secure those loose lines, turn bow into the wind.
Today marks one such shift in the weather.
I woke to a very dark and moody Pacific Northwest morning with three things on my mind.
Coffee, murder and mayhem.
The coffee, available in the kitchen.
The murder in a case file in front of me.
The mayhem in the various corners of this beach house on the bay.
Today I decided to quietly reignite the blog or a number of reasons.
In this cyber world it's a good way to send smoke signals to the planet on a daily basis.
And readership logs indicate readers world wide.
Legend has it, a blog is also a good way to make money.
However I haven't had the time or inclination to figure that angle out yet.
Bottom line, the blog is back...
and I'm glad whoever is reading this is back too.
The world's become askew as of late.
We need places to we can seek solace or cover.
We need sources to fuel our insatiable appetite for information.
And we need to help others.
In the days ahead, the blog... and my P.I. business... will be growing.
It's my way of adapting to the depression we're in....
which, for some reason, the government and politicians prefer to call a recession.
While I'm glad a whole slew of old dictators have left the planet and the troops are pulling out of Iraq, that's not going to help the state of our economy, the amount of war, famine, illness, injury, unemployment and disenchantment among us.
The American economy can and will continue to tank.
I'm the first to admit P.I.'s are not necessarily he most optimistic of people because we see the worst side of life.
However, most of us love what we do because we believe we make a difference. And we often do.
I also think people who read this blog, think about the same way I do.
We need to team up to stay safe and grounded in an unstable world which is rapidly becoming even more unhinged.
So come back every day and I will too.
Share the blog with you anyone you'd like it and help me build readership so we can all spread information that can help save lives...
or lighten those hard or lonely lives burdened by the dark side.
These are not easy days...
Let this blog be a place of both retreat and information to keep you safe.
And a place I can offload the words and images that can haunt the head of a PI.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Re: Amanda Knox Verdict
Hindsight being 20/20 vision, even those with super powers could not imagine Amanda would be held in prison so long for a crime she did not commit.
A crime for which another man was already convicted and serving time.
However, the prosecutor, in my opinion, had a few screws lose.
And the media attention certainly didn't hurt the Italian economy any.
In fact, money came into the country quickly with all the false allegations made against Amanda the alleged "she devil."
This was clearly a case a prosecutorial misconduct, among other things.
I am pleased with the fact that justice has been served in this case.
That would be one for Amanda, her co-defendant and their families and friends.
I hear now everyone in her her life has spent everything they had to help free Amanda.
Amanda's grandmother is broke.
False allegations, accusations, are like ripples on the water.
Not only does the defendant experience that ripple effect, that effect extends to family, friends of both victims and plaintiffs.
I do know Amanda and her family will recover from this.
The media will be all over it with huge financial officers I hope, which will no doubt, go to Amanda's legal bills.
I have no clue how the victim's family will respond.
It is doubtful they will close the case on this.
Regardless, just a few days ago, here's what Amanda's mother had to say on the subject.
She was right.
A crime for which another man was already convicted and serving time.
However, the prosecutor, in my opinion, had a few screws lose.
And the media attention certainly didn't hurt the Italian economy any.
In fact, money came into the country quickly with all the false allegations made against Amanda the alleged "she devil."
This was clearly a case a prosecutorial misconduct, among other things.
I am pleased with the fact that justice has been served in this case.
That would be one for Amanda, her co-defendant and their families and friends.
I hear now everyone in her her life has spent everything they had to help free Amanda.
Amanda's grandmother is broke.
False allegations, accusations, are like ripples on the water.
Not only does the defendant experience that ripple effect, that effect extends to family, friends of both victims and plaintiffs.
I do know Amanda and her family will recover from this.
The media will be all over it with huge financial officers I hope, which will no doubt, go to Amanda's legal bills.
I have no clue how the victim's family will respond.
It is doubtful they will close the case on this.
Regardless, just a few days ago, here's what Amanda's mother had to say on the subject.
She was right.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Questions, Questions, Questions
When people say to me, "I need to ask you a stupid question," I usually reply "there is no stupid question."
Truth be told, I think my family and friends will bear witness to the fact that I ask too many questions. Even worse, I am constantly asking them "Do you think I ask too many questions?"
Which is, indeed, a question.
I wasn't always like this.
It started happening to me after I got burnt once, then twice...
and then as I moved through this process called life, I kept getting burned without seeing the flame coming.
At some point, I got the bright idea that asking questions could divert melt downs.
As I've gotten older, I've learned to walk on fire.
In the past... I got burned all those times, not because I didn't ask the questions, or the right ones, in the right place in the right time.
I got burnt because I figured ignorance was bliss and I'd run with it.
I didn't know then, as I do now, that a attorney never asks someone a question on the stand that he doesn't know the answer to already.
Sometimes, only the strongest or safest among us feel comfortable asking the questions that reveal truths and lies.
I've been posting about Susan Powell's case the past couple of days.
And I have names in my head I can not share with you because those are clients and protected by Invesigator/Client confidence.For every case, client, witness, police officer, first responder, whoever, there is my legal pad and list of questions.
So a friend I questioned/interrogated yesterday, pointed out my "inqusitive" nature in a kind way that got me thinking.
Then she sent me the following You Tube this morning.
I like it for a number of reasons.
I think the people we entrust our money to are not always qualified just because they appear to have the certifications, appear affluent and talk a good game.
I think someone who comes in our homes to do a repair isn't necessarily competent because they got a truck with a company name painted on it and a name tag on their shirt.
I think the people we lay next to at night are not always good, well-intentioned people simply because we sleep next to them.
This one's for all the women out there...and the men...who've been taken.
Whenever you can can, ask questions. Make a list of them. They can be quite revealing.
In some cases, like Susan's, even she they asked the questions, all the right questions, a pathological liar could bypass them.
Or another person could kill you for asking them.
So... sometimes.... even questions aren't enough to save a relationship or a life.
Questions certainly are, however, a great start.
Truth be told, I think my family and friends will bear witness to the fact that I ask too many questions. Even worse, I am constantly asking them "Do you think I ask too many questions?"
Which is, indeed, a question.
I wasn't always like this.
It started happening to me after I got burnt once, then twice...
and then as I moved through this process called life, I kept getting burned without seeing the flame coming.
At some point, I got the bright idea that asking questions could divert melt downs.
As I've gotten older, I've learned to walk on fire.
In the past... I got burned all those times, not because I didn't ask the questions, or the right ones, in the right place in the right time.
I got burnt because I figured ignorance was bliss and I'd run with it.
I didn't know then, as I do now, that a attorney never asks someone a question on the stand that he doesn't know the answer to already.
Sometimes, only the strongest or safest among us feel comfortable asking the questions that reveal truths and lies.
I've been posting about Susan Powell's case the past couple of days.
And I have names in my head I can not share with you because those are clients and protected by Invesigator/Client confidence.For every case, client, witness, police officer, first responder, whoever, there is my legal pad and list of questions.
So a friend I questioned/interrogated yesterday, pointed out my "inqusitive" nature in a kind way that got me thinking.
Then she sent me the following You Tube this morning.
I like it for a number of reasons.
I think the people we entrust our money to are not always qualified just because they appear to have the certifications, appear affluent and talk a good game.
I think someone who comes in our homes to do a repair isn't necessarily competent because they got a truck with a company name painted on it and a name tag on their shirt.
I think the people we lay next to at night are not always good, well-intentioned people simply because we sleep next to them.
This one's for all the women out there...and the men...who've been taken.
Whenever you can can, ask questions. Make a list of them. They can be quite revealing.
In some cases, like Susan's, even she they asked the questions, all the right questions, a pathological liar could bypass them.
Or another person could kill you for asking them.
So... sometimes.... even questions aren't enough to save a relationship or a life.
Questions certainly are, however, a great start.
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