SUbject: The Gary Stollman Story. Part 2. Oct. 8, 2008.
This tells about him being put in another mental hospital.
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What took place after that would make a good story in itself!
Suffice it to say that I picked up the money okay at the Western
Union office, but then I wandered around in the city, with some
VERY interesting results. When I got back to the student center,
it was real late, and I laid down on a couch like the other people
trapped there for the night, and went to sleep.
When I awoke the next morning, the snow had cleared enough
for me to leave. I decided that there was just too much nonsense
going on for me to return to Tallahassee, and so I just continued
driving north on I-75, planning to head towards Wa****ngton, D.C.
On the way there, the snow was still coming down on a long
section of freeway, and I slid out of control and slammed my car
into the retaining wall. There was some damage to my car, but I
was able to continue. Fortunately, I have a lot of experience
driving in rain, and I was able to control the swerve so the damage
was not too bad.
I pulled off the road near Cinncinati, Ohio to get a bite to
eat. I made an illegal U-turn near the restaurant, and a cop
pulled me over. He let me go with a warning though, and I went to
have some dinner and coffee. Although I had been driving all day
and most of the night, I was still in pretty good shape.
When I finished eating, I decided to ask for an escort to
Wa****ngton, as I was afraid because of stuff happening around me
while I was driving, of someone trying to k-ll me on the road
before I got there. I know it was a stupid idea, but I went ahead
and called the H-ghway Patrol for an escort, telling them I some
sort of a s-y, and I had vital information needed to save the
country from an enemy missle attack. Eventually, they sent a
highway patrol car and a regular police car to the restaurant.
The highway p-trolmen were considerate as to my situation,
but the regular po-ice acted like I was some kind of criminal for
reasons I couldn't understand. When they checked my car, they
asked me about the damage, but I wouldn't say what had happened,
and so they took me into protective custody.
They took me to the polic- station, and then something
happened that made me wonder just how far the situation with alien
clones had gone. The pol-ce called my father and told me that he
was flying in to pick me up, but then some very wierd stuff took
place, and instead they took me over to Cinncinati General Hospital
for supposed evaluation.
The next day, I was transferred over to a nearby mental
hospital, and placed in a locked ward for the next 4 weeks. The
people there acted extremely bizarre, and the whole thing was a
total sham. But I was trapped, and I spent a month in misery
walking the halls, biding my time for the day I would be released.
During the time I was there, I was so distraut by what was
going on in the place, I called the F-I office in Cinncinati and
told them that the hospital was a sham. They asked to speak to one
of the people there, and I put the social worker on the phone, who
gave a false name to the FB- agent. After that, I didn't s-rew
around with them, but swore an oath that someday I would expose
their fraudulant hospital to the world.
At the end of the month, my REAL dad flew in to drive with me
back to Tallahassee. I knew it was my real dad, and I also knew
that he was pretending to his best to give the impression that
nothing was wrong. I had the impression that he was being watched
somehow every minute we were together, although I didn't know
exactly how at the time. I just played along with it all, as I
wanted OUT of that nuthouse. So we started driving back to
Tallahassee that day.
When we got back to Tallahassee, I began to understand just
how serious my dad's situation really was. He was not acting
"normal" at all, for him. When he covered up the story I had told
to the --olice with feigned tears, I knew something was terribly
wrong. I can tell when someone is faking anything, and I KNOW my
own father, so I was able to discern that he was only "pretending"
to cry. Then I realized that he was pretending because someone was
somehow WATCHING him at the time! My dad was trying to fool THEM!
I didn't know what to make of that at the time, but I swore I would
someday find out what was going on.
My dad found me a different apartment, one closer to FSU,
where I live to this day as it is the best apartment complex in
town. He had wanted to stick me in a halfway house, which is what
I had promised him I would do in order to get out of the hospital,
but I wouldn't go for it. So we moved all my stuff from my
previous apartment, and the next day I took him to the air****t to
fly back to LA. I was mad as h-ll at whatever was going on, and so
I treated him pretty poorly as he left. When he once again feigned
crying, I knew it was to protect himself from whatever, and so I
didn't say anything. He got on the plane and headed back.
The next few weeks were hard on me, because I didn't have any
cl***** to attend, and so felt lonely. I did have the FSU Plato
system to learn from, but it just wasn't enough sup****t, and
gradually I began to slip backwards again. It ended up that I went
driving off into the night in terror for a second time, this time
from things that were going on around me in the town itself. I got
on I-10 and started heading back to LA, in the hope that being
around my family would pull me out of the fear and loneliness.
I wound up losing my car in a crowded air****t parking lot at
the Houston Intercontinental Air****t. I was in such a poor state
of mind, that I believed that a computer fault I had come across on
the g-vernment computer system I had spent many years on was
somehow responsible for a sneak missle attack on the U-ited States.
It was at this point in time that I came across the fact that
people were being replaced. How this was proved to me is shown
later in the book. Suffice it to say that I wound up being
incarcerated against my will in another mental hospital for a
month, only this time they FORGED my NAME on the admission form to
do it!
At the end of the month, my dad flew in again, but this time
he flew me back to LA with him. My mom got me a shrink in West Los
Angeles, and I started taking injections of an anti-psychotic d-ug
called P-olixin. I spent a happy, though angry, spring with my
parents, and even went with them on a trip to Hawaii for a week. I
had NO thoughts that these were not my real parents at the time,
and I eventually put off the events with my mom in Tallahassee as
misguided assumptions, although in the back of my mind there
remained the fact that I am not ususally wrong when I think
something funny is going on.
As the summer came around back then in 1982, I said goodbye
to my real parents and drove back to Tallahassee to return to
school at FSU. My mind was at peace, because my parents WERE my
real parents back then, and I was pretty confident that nothing
would change that fact. I did not know how much more WRONG I could
have been!
The next two semesters at FSU went well, and I did good in my
cl*****. However, as the summer appoached, my mind began to slip
back to the events that had unraveled the year before. I found
myself becoming more and more angry at myself for not having taken
steps to file charges against the hospital in H-uston that had
forged my name, and I still didn't know what had really been going
on at that hospital when I discovered that people were somehow
being systematically replaced. Around August, I wound up getting
throw into the local mental hospital again.
This time around, I had proof positive that something VERY
wrong was going on here in town. The stuff that was going on in
the hospital was i-sane. It had no logical explanation, except to
confirm my suspicions from the year before. I was physically
abused this time, and had to placate my captors immensely in order
to be released. This time though, being released was like merely
being turned loose into the world of the unknown outside in the
town. I didn't have my parents or my family to fall back on, and
in fact, I felt that both my parents were being held pr-soners in
some -IA base somewhere.
Part 2.
John Winston. johfw@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
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