Posts
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Rigoberto's Suicide
I wonder if this one could've been prevented.
Click here: "LA Teacher Suicide Sparks Test-Score Debate"
Click here: "LA Teacher Suicide Sparks Test-Score Debate"
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Let It Be
I think when my times comes, I will fight to the death.
But then again, maybe I won't.
Maybe I'll be hurting so bad, I'll just yield to sleep's sweet escape or embrace.
Who really knows what we do until we do it?.
Those who say they've died and come back, may really have been there.
Down the tunnel, to the bright light, greeted by the comforting images of family members and friends. Seen angels and/or God.
Or maybe they just experienced some kind of electrical brain explosion pre-shutdown, like the last circle of light on one of those old tv's we used to turn off.
Regardless, I think today, this P.I. needs to let go and let God... The Great Spirit... Allah... Moses... Jehovah... Jesus.... Buddha... Mother Earth...The Universe.... whoever.... do his/her thing.
I can not change any one's mind for them.
It is by virtue of being human, we are allowed to make our own decisions.
This song is a favorite of a friend and mine's. Very old, very good.
Perfect tune for a Sunday afternoon.
I am posting it to honor him and remind myself of a few things.
Now it is time to step away from the computer.... and let it be.
But then again, maybe I won't.
Maybe I'll be hurting so bad, I'll just yield to sleep's sweet escape or embrace.
Who really knows what we do until we do it?.
Those who say they've died and come back, may really have been there.
Down the tunnel, to the bright light, greeted by the comforting images of family members and friends. Seen angels and/or God.
Or maybe they just experienced some kind of electrical brain explosion pre-shutdown, like the last circle of light on one of those old tv's we used to turn off.
Regardless, I think today, this P.I. needs to let go and let God... The Great Spirit... Allah... Moses... Jehovah... Jesus.... Buddha... Mother Earth...The Universe.... whoever.... do his/her thing.
I can not change any one's mind for them.
It is by virtue of being human, we are allowed to make our own decisions.
This song is a favorite of a friend and mine's. Very old, very good.
Perfect tune for a Sunday afternoon.
I am posting it to honor him and remind myself of a few things.
Now it is time to step away from the computer.... and let it be.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Worried
Sooner or later, I am going to have to take a major break from blogging to write a book I have committed to. However, I have become use to this blog.... and telling shorter stories, conveying important messages.... and selfishly, releasing my own inner professional demons here.
P.I.'s aren't like police, we don't have our own built-in employer funded psych program.
We have to work out everything that happens to us in both life and business in our heads.
My wake-up call this morning was from a woman who was being stalked.
Sometimes.... it all becomes a bit overwhelming for we P.I.'s and that is happening to a friend of mine this weekend.
He is in another country and I am hoping he will go to a hospital or the American Embassy, however, he feels hopeless and helpless... as he has cancer, complete financial ruin... and is actually sitting at home, cutting out his own tumors.
He says he has no family left in the U.S.
He is physically wiped out.
I do believe he has resigned himself to die.
Were I rich I could do something about this in a heart beat
I am not however.
And it appears to me he determined to just exit planet earth without a final fight.
If I call and have the authorities in a third world country intervene, who knows how much worse it could get for him. They could lock him in a psych ward.
That would be the end of him.
I and others have laid out several viable options.
What he does with all this info is up to him.
So for me, this is a hard time to have to exit the internet for the day.That's why I figured the least I could do for my friend.... and myself.... is to write this blog.
And post the video above.
I will link him to it and tell him again here:
you are loved.
Please don't give up, don't leave, without one last fight.
Life can turn on a dime.... unless you cut it all off too soon.
P.I.'s aren't like police, we don't have our own built-in employer funded psych program.
We have to work out everything that happens to us in both life and business in our heads.
My wake-up call this morning was from a woman who was being stalked.
Sometimes.... it all becomes a bit overwhelming for we P.I.'s and that is happening to a friend of mine this weekend.
He is in another country and I am hoping he will go to a hospital or the American Embassy, however, he feels hopeless and helpless... as he has cancer, complete financial ruin... and is actually sitting at home, cutting out his own tumors.
He says he has no family left in the U.S.
He is physically wiped out.
I do believe he has resigned himself to die.
Were I rich I could do something about this in a heart beat
I am not however.
And it appears to me he determined to just exit planet earth without a final fight.
If I call and have the authorities in a third world country intervene, who knows how much worse it could get for him. They could lock him in a psych ward.
That would be the end of him.
I and others have laid out several viable options.
What he does with all this info is up to him.
So for me, this is a hard time to have to exit the internet for the day.That's why I figured the least I could do for my friend.... and myself.... is to write this blog.
And post the video above.
I will link him to it and tell him again here:
you are loved.
Please don't give up, don't leave, without one last fight.
Life can turn on a dime.... unless you cut it all off too soon.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Grandma's Got A Gun
If any doubt exists in your mind that people are getting crazier than usual out there, please consider this article about a recent event in West Seattle... which will no doubt make the national news.
Grandma comes down the stairs and starts shooting her children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews.
An estimated 20 rounds were fired, three family members were killed.
According one interview with a nephew afterward, "there was no emotion in her face."
Based on the attached article that describes Grandma's killing spree, we will be spared a trial because Grandma killed herself too.
Now everyone is saying "why, why why?"
I know why.
Evidently, she had a history of mental illness.
She went ballistic.
Literally.
I've been on the very street where this happened, at a house just a few doors away.
I recall when I was in that neighborhood there were children playing everywhere.
For the kids in this family, "play" is not the key word anymore.
"Pray" is better.
Because every family member who witnessed and survived this must find a way to deal with the most unthinkable, unimaginable of crimes... committed by the one person in the word responsible for their very existence.
Grandma.
Just follow this link to the Seattle P.I.'s story.
http://www.seattlepi.com/local/427319_newshoot24.html?source=mypi
Grandma comes down the stairs and starts shooting her children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews.
An estimated 20 rounds were fired, three family members were killed.
According one interview with a nephew afterward, "there was no emotion in her face."
Based on the attached article that describes Grandma's killing spree, we will be spared a trial because Grandma killed herself too.
Now everyone is saying "why, why why?"
I know why.
Evidently, she had a history of mental illness.
She went ballistic.
Literally.
I've been on the very street where this happened, at a house just a few doors away.
I recall when I was in that neighborhood there were children playing everywhere.
For the kids in this family, "play" is not the key word anymore.
"Pray" is better.
Because every family member who witnessed and survived this must find a way to deal with the most unthinkable, unimaginable of crimes... committed by the one person in the word responsible for their very existence.
Grandma.
Just follow this link to the Seattle P.I.'s story.
http://www.seattlepi.com/local/427319_newshoot24.html?source=mypi
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Smile, You're On Facebook Camera!
Big Brother is watching.
See why I don't have a profile pix?
Facebook Sending Photos of You for Criminal Investigation
See why I don't have a profile pix?
Facebook Sending Photos of You for Criminal Investigation
Just Another Day In P.I. Paradise
I took a very early ferry out yesterday morning. First one. The sun hadn't risen, the fog was thick over Puget Sound.
I was up most of the night before investigating on the computer.
I recall looking at the clock and seeing the 3:30 am light and realizing the boat I was taking would be in less than two hours.
I remember setting my alarm to allow for for 1.5 hours sleep.
For an unknown reason.... and the first time... I chose the "rooster crowing wake up call" on my cell, thinking that would somehow soften the blow of such an early rising.
No such luck.
The Droid Rooster is a horrible wake up call.
It was worse than the nightmare I was having.
It gets harder and harder as you get older to pull all-nighters. Though there are certain advantages.
Like no phones ringing.
Complete and total quiet.
P.I. data-bases don't shut down at night.
Computers run faster.
And when you are investigating Defendants on My Space, Facebook, and every other Social Network site you can imagine, it's like looking in windows, through photo albums, reading minds, tracking actions and being 100% invisible.
What continues to amaze me is the fact that many people don't have a clue that what they post on their Facebook walls is revealing, can be used as evidence... and some cases, incriminate them.
The day this concept first hit home for me was when I took on a case the Defendant claimed was our client's fault. The lawyers and their client didn't want to sue.... to go to trial. They preferred to settle out of court.
However, the Defendant, a 23 year old male college student, refused to accept liability for the accident. His version of events just didn't add up, yet he insisted his insurance company take the case to trial.
Then I got a call from the Attorney I was working the case with. He was laughing and said just six words. The DEF's first and last name, plus "Go to My Space."
Then he said, "I'll hold on."
So off to the DEF's My Space I went and it was a gold-mine of incriminating evidence.
My laughter soon melded with the attorney's.
The kid was not just a liar, he was an idiot.
Not only did the DEF post about the accident the night it happened, with photos of his car...
he also documented every hour of that entire evening, every drink in his hand during the party he was at before he hit our client head-on. He was clearly drinking all day.
And even better than that, he added these words, "missed a curve... ouch" on his Twitter account.
His insurance company settled out of court.
When I first became a P.I., I spent much of my time in courthouses, countless hours, cruising through microfilm, hand- pulling records. These days, it's amazing what can be gathered through a computer, public records, a state license, and by following all Federal and State privacy laws.
Now I think Facebook takes Private Investigation to a whole new level.
Even the FBI is here. http://www.facebook.com/FBI
Facebook is quite the info source for an Investigator.
And a good P.I. can usually find a back door in.
Facebook has also become a graveyard of sorts. There are memorials set up for the deceased.
And for the living, who've been stalked, insulted, or go into hiding, there are always cybertrails to follow when you need to find them.
So before you post something on your wall think about what you are posting.
PI's are much like truffle hounds.
Once we're on a scent, we're relentless.
And following that scent is much easier now... especially with today's social media.
So be careful what you say and post.
It could come back to haunt you.
I was up most of the night before investigating on the computer.
I recall looking at the clock and seeing the 3:30 am light and realizing the boat I was taking would be in less than two hours.
I remember setting my alarm to allow for for 1.5 hours sleep.
For an unknown reason.... and the first time... I chose the "rooster crowing wake up call" on my cell, thinking that would somehow soften the blow of such an early rising.
No such luck.
The Droid Rooster is a horrible wake up call.
It was worse than the nightmare I was having.
It gets harder and harder as you get older to pull all-nighters. Though there are certain advantages.
Like no phones ringing.
Complete and total quiet.
P.I. data-bases don't shut down at night.
Computers run faster.
And when you are investigating Defendants on My Space, Facebook, and every other Social Network site you can imagine, it's like looking in windows, through photo albums, reading minds, tracking actions and being 100% invisible.
What continues to amaze me is the fact that many people don't have a clue that what they post on their Facebook walls is revealing, can be used as evidence... and some cases, incriminate them.
The day this concept first hit home for me was when I took on a case the Defendant claimed was our client's fault. The lawyers and their client didn't want to sue.... to go to trial. They preferred to settle out of court.
However, the Defendant, a 23 year old male college student, refused to accept liability for the accident. His version of events just didn't add up, yet he insisted his insurance company take the case to trial.
Then I got a call from the Attorney I was working the case with. He was laughing and said just six words. The DEF's first and last name, plus "Go to My Space."
Then he said, "I'll hold on."
So off to the DEF's My Space I went and it was a gold-mine of incriminating evidence.
My laughter soon melded with the attorney's.
The kid was not just a liar, he was an idiot.
Not only did the DEF post about the accident the night it happened, with photos of his car...
he also documented every hour of that entire evening, every drink in his hand during the party he was at before he hit our client head-on. He was clearly drinking all day.
And even better than that, he added these words, "missed a curve... ouch" on his Twitter account.
His insurance company settled out of court.
When I first became a P.I., I spent much of my time in courthouses, countless hours, cruising through microfilm, hand- pulling records. These days, it's amazing what can be gathered through a computer, public records, a state license, and by following all Federal and State privacy laws.
Now I think Facebook takes Private Investigation to a whole new level.
Even the FBI is here. http://www.facebook.com/FBI
Facebook is quite the info source for an Investigator.
And a good P.I. can usually find a back door in.
Facebook has also become a graveyard of sorts. There are memorials set up for the deceased.
And for the living, who've been stalked, insulted, or go into hiding, there are always cybertrails to follow when you need to find them.
So before you post something on your wall think about what you are posting.
PI's are much like truffle hounds.
Once we're on a scent, we're relentless.
And following that scent is much easier now... especially with today's social media.
So be careful what you say and post.
It could come back to haunt you.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Acid Girl's Charges - Theft
I confess I am more than bit fascinated/obsessed by this case.
And as I was just about to race out for the day, I discovered Prosecutors shared some details of the behind the theft charges associated with this self-mutilating crime.
One of things Bethany Storro wanted to pay for from the sympathy funds she received from the public was an acid face peel. All I can say at the moment is "unbelievable". You never really know what's going on inside someone's head.
Maybe that's why I love my job so much. Never a dull, predictable, boring day or case.
And every time I go into one of those "oh woe is me" modes.... I walk in a home, a police station, a jail, study and sketch an accident scene, photograph a victim's injuries.... or hear about a case like this... I am so grateful for both my health and sanity.
Just follow this link and maybe you'll feel a little better about your own state of mind today.
Wash. woman burned in acid hoax charged with theft - CharlotteObserver.com
And as I was just about to race out for the day, I discovered Prosecutors shared some details of the behind the theft charges associated with this self-mutilating crime.
One of things Bethany Storro wanted to pay for from the sympathy funds she received from the public was an acid face peel. All I can say at the moment is "unbelievable". You never really know what's going on inside someone's head.
Maybe that's why I love my job so much. Never a dull, predictable, boring day or case.
And every time I go into one of those "oh woe is me" modes.... I walk in a home, a police station, a jail, study and sketch an accident scene, photograph a victim's injuries.... or hear about a case like this... I am so grateful for both my health and sanity.
Just follow this link and maybe you'll feel a little better about your own state of mind today.
Wash. woman burned in acid hoax charged with theft - CharlotteObserver.com
Monday, September 20, 2010
Stopping Stalkers
To those of you free from this behavior, you have no clue how lucky you are.
Most stalkers have a screw loose, or a screw too tight, or they are just plain screwed up. They may have delusions, illusions, obsessions... yet does it really matter why?
For whatever reasons, they pursue with such relentless persistence, it can really be soul and gut- wrenching for the person being stalked to deal with. The more you try to make them go away, the more it turns them on.
I've dealt my my fair share of stalkers on behalf of clients. My job is to make them stop and I/we do. Often with the assistance of restraining orders, police, video cameras, human surveillance...and the threat of their public exposure or criminal and/or civil charges.
I have a link I'd like to share with you. This is one of the best sites on the web for all kinds of information and I find their stalking page so right-on in presenting stalker counter-measures, I decided to add it here, today, this way.
So here it is. A way to fight back. Just enter this powerful portal:
http://www.baddteddy.com/stalkers/stalkers.htm
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Acid Girl - "The story behind the story"
What kind of young woman throws acid in her own face and carries the whole hoax out for so long....talking to media from her hospital bed, her once attractive face wrapped in bandages?
This act of self-mutilation resulted in many victims, not just two other women in our country injured in copycat crimes.
Bethany Storro also accused a woman of color of committing this crime.
Just like Susan Smith accused the same, only this time, a black male, of drowning her boys. Susan Smith was the one killed her sons.
Ultimately, both women confessed. Yet I can't imagine the weight and worry anyone of color felt while the search for the alleged perpetrators of these lies went down.
And I am grateful to law enforcement professionals with the powerful ability to elicit those confessions.
Still that inevitable question remains?Why?
Screws loose? Low self-esteem? Meth trip? Media crazy? Whacko Parenting?
I have been a bit haunted by this case. Then I stumbled upon this article.
I think it does a great job of plumbing the deaths of this woman's psyche.
Just click here: The story behind the story of the acid hoax | The Columbian
This act of self-mutilation resulted in many victims, not just two other women in our country injured in copycat crimes.
Bethany Storro also accused a woman of color of committing this crime.
Just like Susan Smith accused the same, only this time, a black male, of drowning her boys. Susan Smith was the one killed her sons.
Ultimately, both women confessed. Yet I can't imagine the weight and worry anyone of color felt while the search for the alleged perpetrators of these lies went down.
And I am grateful to law enforcement professionals with the powerful ability to elicit those confessions.
Still that inevitable question remains?Why?
Screws loose? Low self-esteem? Meth trip? Media crazy? Whacko Parenting?
I have been a bit haunted by this case. Then I stumbled upon this article.
I think it does a great job of plumbing the deaths of this woman's psyche.
Just click here: The story behind the story of the acid hoax | The Columbian
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
One Day in The Life
I've been away from the blog too long.
That's both a good thing and a bad thing.
It's good because I am busy investigating cases... which means I am out helping people and making money.
It's bad because the blog has remained static.
I've decided I need a wealthy benefactor, a lottery win or at the very least, a best selling book.
I'm going for the last two.
So I bought three Lotto tickets today, along with my Hi Rev Coffee at the corner gas station before hitting the road.
In all, this day took me 177 miles round trip.
I made it through two accident investigations and took pictures of a decimated car, and some gnarly injuries.
I followed one person around during lunch to see who he was with when he wasn't at the job his girlfriend found out he lost months ago.
I was surprised to see an accident happen when someone ran a stop sign. There were plenty of witnesses present, I handed the police officer my card and exited that scene.
I called 911 when I saw two men fighting outside an apartment complex where kids were playing.
One appeared to have a pipe of some kind.
I stayed in my car, grabbed my binoculars, waited and watched until the police came and I drove away.
My last job of the day was delivery of a subpoena.
I wanted to get this last task done early and fast because the car ferry lines home on Fridays can take forever.
So I ran into the supermarket, got a bunch of cheap flowers, knocked on the door and asked the woman who answered for my subject by name... even though I knew it was her, I'd seen her picture.
She said, "That's me!" excitedly, "who would send me flowers?"
She had a great big smile and I got a huge rush as I handed her the flowers and a set of folded papers.
"An attorney, " I said, attempting to look serious even though it was hard to contain my joy at this last task being done. "You've been served."
Normally I linger a little, savor the aftershock.
This time, I turned on my heels with the image of her mouth hanging open, the papers and flowers in her hand, as I sprinted for my car in one heavy-duty Seattle downpour.
The ferry line wait was a full two hours.
I alternated between phone calls, organizing case files, cleaning out my car and listening to radio commentators discuss the Vacouver woman who threw acid in her own face and blamed a black woman. She faked the whole thing.
And here I sit.
Friday night, the P.I. is finally home, everyone's sleeping but me. Dogs snore louder than people sometimes.
I have an early boat out tomorrow, so I will close for now, while I prep for a Saturday case that couldn't wait until Monday.
This is one day in the life of just one P.I.
Always different. Ever challenging. Endlessly intriguing.
And ultimately, exhausting.
That's both a good thing and a bad thing.
It's good because I am busy investigating cases... which means I am out helping people and making money.
It's bad because the blog has remained static.
I've decided I need a wealthy benefactor, a lottery win or at the very least, a best selling book.
I'm going for the last two.
So I bought three Lotto tickets today, along with my Hi Rev Coffee at the corner gas station before hitting the road.
In all, this day took me 177 miles round trip.
I made it through two accident investigations and took pictures of a decimated car, and some gnarly injuries.
I followed one person around during lunch to see who he was with when he wasn't at the job his girlfriend found out he lost months ago.
I was surprised to see an accident happen when someone ran a stop sign. There were plenty of witnesses present, I handed the police officer my card and exited that scene.
I called 911 when I saw two men fighting outside an apartment complex where kids were playing.
One appeared to have a pipe of some kind.
I stayed in my car, grabbed my binoculars, waited and watched until the police came and I drove away.
My last job of the day was delivery of a subpoena.
I wanted to get this last task done early and fast because the car ferry lines home on Fridays can take forever.
So I ran into the supermarket, got a bunch of cheap flowers, knocked on the door and asked the woman who answered for my subject by name... even though I knew it was her, I'd seen her picture.
She said, "That's me!" excitedly, "who would send me flowers?"
She had a great big smile and I got a huge rush as I handed her the flowers and a set of folded papers.
"An attorney, " I said, attempting to look serious even though it was hard to contain my joy at this last task being done. "You've been served."
Normally I linger a little, savor the aftershock.
This time, I turned on my heels with the image of her mouth hanging open, the papers and flowers in her hand, as I sprinted for my car in one heavy-duty Seattle downpour.
The ferry line wait was a full two hours.
I alternated between phone calls, organizing case files, cleaning out my car and listening to radio commentators discuss the Vacouver woman who threw acid in her own face and blamed a black woman. She faked the whole thing.
And here I sit.
Friday night, the P.I. is finally home, everyone's sleeping but me. Dogs snore louder than people sometimes.
I have an early boat out tomorrow, so I will close for now, while I prep for a Saturday case that couldn't wait until Monday.
This is one day in the life of just one P.I.
Always different. Ever challenging. Endlessly intriguing.
And ultimately, exhausting.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
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