SRA/DID Advanced Training 1-3

Beloved,

Please pray against a critical spirit before you listen to this message, and ask for wisdom from Holy Spirit. You may hear things you don’t understand, or things in error (not salvation critical error), or things you disagree with. I ask you to please listen to the entire message in the spirit of love, and receive the spirit of Love that pours forth from this dear saint. That which is useful and helpful far outweighs that which is superfluous, incorrect or mistaken.

In deep love of Yeshua,

Cate

Sessions 1-3 by Amanda Buys in Cape Town, South Africa, March 2013

 

When Titans Clash…

To my dear Sisters and Brothers with DID/MPD, and survivors of SRA,

When people in ministry clash with each other, it is a dangerous time for those who are near them and trying to heal, because they may be swept away in the confusion.

Don’t choose sides without evidence, and don’t throw stones, but hide in Christ, the Rock of Ages, until the dust settles.

Pray, pray, and pray some more.

The most well-meaning, loving people can get it wrong.

Don’t blindly follow anyone! And just because you find fault with someone, it is not right to just reject anyone who loves them. This is such a device of Satan to destroy relationships, and tear down our house with our own hands.

Jesus gave us a method to reconciliation, and when people come to you to get you to choose sides, you will do them a huge favor if you point them to the scriptures!

Matthew 18:11-20 gives Jesus’ own words on the subject:

“(11) For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost.(12) How think ye? if a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray?(13) And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep, than of the ninety and nine which went not astray.(14) Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.(15) Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother.(16) But if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established.(17) And if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church: but if he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a publican.(18) Verily I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.(19) Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.(20) For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” Matthew 18:11-20

These instructions from our Master apply to all parts of the Body of Christ! Even to the Church without walls, or the internet church. The moment we decide we are above the teachings of our Master, we are already on the path away from fellowship.

For those who are trying to get healing, who are victims of SRA or other forms of trauma-based mind control, look to Jesus and try not to allow yourself to get swept away in these battles. The Lord will never leave your nor will He forsake you, and when people settle down and come to their senses, they may yet be able to be of service.

It all boils down to this: Keep your eyes on Jesus! HE is the Author and Perfector of your faith!

Love,

Cate

 

Who’s Up?

Who’s Up?

Last night my husband and I took our six-month-old pup, Bailey, and went out for a walk. I love it when we leave all the electronic umbilical cords at home and just take time to talk.

We were strolling past the park, shuffling through the big oak leaves that showed pale gold, brown, and orange in the street lights, and enjoying the slight nip in the air. As we were chatting about this and that, my thoughts turned to someone we both love and for whom we are mutually concerned.

I  began to explain what I was thinking about telling this loved one if the situation warranted a firmer position than what I’ve previously taken. In the middle of listing what I thought needed to be said, my husband quickly interjected. He told me that I had already said those words, and he even listed off the other things I was about to tell him – I had already said the firm words. But I had no recollection of it. I still don’t.

It is preposterous, what I’m about to say. If you’ve never had this experience it will be hard to relate to…

See, this disturbed me. I was disappointed. I felt a sense of unrest and betrayal. Though it was clearly one of “us” – you know, me, myself, I and all the rest – who gave the advice, I felt kind of stunned. Since two of us are usually up and aware (Cate/Grace), and share co-consciousness, this was very disquieting to discover that there is obviously someone who has not yet identified herself (assuming it’s a “her”) to us, and she takes the main stage sometimes.

It’s not even that my mystery alter said or did anything inappropriate. I couldn’t argue that it was needed counsel she gave, and I was actually relieved that I didn’t have to build up my courage to say hard words because I had already said them. I was even kind of happy that there was agreement “within” on the subject. But I felt like some other “me” stole my place, usurped my authority, spoke out of turn, and didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me about it. And I wondered how often this has happened.

In addition to my own feelings of ambivalence, what about the consequences to others? What if I had another conversation with that person and had no idea that I had already said those words? How awkward would it be to repeat them as if saying them for the first time? Would I even recognize any discomfort as resulting from words I had already spoken? Would I make the leap and catch up if the other person began to address what I said last time?

This isn’t the first time someone has said “You already told me that”.

I know that some chalk it up to getting older, repeating oneself, etc. But I’m not even 60, and my mind is sharp and alert. It’s just that it’s insulting to my sense of fair play, and makes me look weak and foolish in the eyes of others, and I can’t even explain it because that’s a whole can of worms I really don’t want to open.

I wish I had an answer. But as a temporary solution, I’m thinking about installing a bulletin board “inside” and asking my incognito alters to check in once in a while. It would be nice to know who’s up, and who is taking over unbeknown to me.

Cate

Jigsaw Puzzle

The other night my husband and I had to work on my system. I had a rough time. I was under physical attack, and ended up meeting three new alters.

The first one apparently already had been ministered to. She is about four years old. She came to look at me up close, and then presented me with a little wooden box. Jesus led her by the hand and took her to the House of Joy. She waved at me as I opened the box. It was a sunflower pin (I’m very partial to sunflowers, but this was entirely unexpected). I was so touched. And relieved: I was afraid it was a box of her memories.

Next one came out, and she was very distraught. She was me at about eight years old. She had some memories of stuff I’ve never seen before, but I know where I was. Being kept captive in the dark in a cubicle with only a cot, and observed by a few men who were shouting at me and cursing from a rectangular window (about 4’ wide x 18” tall) up near the ceiling. That window was my only source of light. I don’t know who they were, but I was in Tulare, California, with my mother’s mother. My parents left my sister and me there while they moved house. I didn’t see much of my sister, though.

I recall that during that visit I went out for a walk in the neighborhood by myself. I remember a sidewalk fair – tables set up selling books and other items. I had a nice time – I have always enjoyed taking walks by myself. On my way back to my grandma’s house a man who was walking behind me quickened his pace to catch up with me. He asked me if my mother was home, and I said no, only my grandma. He asked me to give her a message. He smiled as he said, “please tell your grandma I will be happy to come and f**k with her in her garden any time.” I said okay and he turned and walked away. I had no idea what that word meant, but it was easy enough to remember. When I got back to the house (less than two blocks away), I gave my grandma the message. She immediately turned a sickly ashy color, and looked like she was going to vomit. I was worried but she dismissed me so I went to do something else, leaving her to her distress.

It doesn’t seem like a stretch of the imagination to think that something really bad was going on there, and these people must have been involved with my grandma prior to my arrival. I think there has to be a connection between the men who were keeping me in that dark room and screaming at me, and the man who gave me that message. It seems clear he also knew my mother (that’s another post for another time, but I think it’s all related).

Back to the present time:

We encountered a very strong demon that attacked this little alter; our Guardians came to our rescue, and we also had to call in angels. It took a lot to kill it, but it’s gone (yes they can be killed in the inside place – we’ve seen it many times). My little alter gave the rest of those memories to Jesus, and He healed her. After that He took her to the House of Joy.

One other alter was in her 20’s. She was very distressed, and did not want to talk to my husband. She didn’t trust any man. She had a demon in her, and after it was gone, our Guardians put her in the hospital.

After this, I no longer had the pains that were being inflicted on my physical body in the form of an attack on my entire left side.

Peace and love,

Cate

Shining Man – Thoughts on DID 1

I spend a lot of time thinking about DID/MPD because I live with it every day. I wonder how many people I know right now, today, are trying to cope with something they barely understand. How many wish they knew someone with DID so they could talk, compare notes, ask questions, or just be.

A 76 year old man, Ellis Skolfield, wrote a book after working with multiples for over ten years. He wasn’t a psychiatrist or psychologist. He was just someone who knew Jesus and fervently loved all the multis he met – first online, and later even as guests in his home. His book, The Shining Man with Hurt Hands, was truly ground-breaking. He found that if he treated people with DID/MPD as if they were telling the truth, he would learn from them and earn their trust, subsequently earning the ability to help them in their world.

“Therapists and clergymen are probably doing the best they can, but both are using treatments that don’t work. After literally thousands of hours with dozens of multis, I am now of the opinion that MPD is not a mental disorder at all, but a unique multidimensional condition that can be treated by working exclusively in what multiples call their “inside.” Alters are not demons, and in most instances there is nothing wrong with the multiple’s mind.” (Skolfield, 2004)

The signs of DID/MPD are: hearing voices, missing time, seeing an inner landscape of some type, and experience of trauma beginning as a child. There is such stigma attached to DID/MPD that most who suffer do not discuss it with others for fear of being ostracized or ridiculed, or worse, hospitalized against their wishes. Many multiples carry shame that does not belong to them, and the enemy is often able to inflict great damage on them.

“There isn’t any group of people on earth more in need of help than multiples. Of those I have known (well over a hundred), all have been physically, emotionally, sexually abused, or victims of Satanic ritual abuse (SRA), abuses that sometimes continued into adulthood. Some multiples have also been psychologically programmed (translate that brainwashed) by Satanic cults, sadomasochists or occult groups like the Illuminati. Most have few childhood memories, their “mems” as they call them, having been totally blocked out. Since every multiple has been grossly abused as an infant, it is reasonable to conclude that infant abuse is at least one cause of the condition.

“Multis also have a host of chronic physical ailments: diabetes, asthma, hypertension, arthritis, etc., the incidence of these maladies appearing to be far above the statistical norm. Multis also have an impaired sense of touch and diminished peripheral vision.

“Many alters are in severe emotional pain. If a dark alter “gets out” (i.e., gains control of the body), even for a few minutes, there is panic and terror – flashbacks of extreme physical, sexual, or ritual abuse – torture, injury and even death. The emotional pain can be so severe that hurting the body is the only way the alter knows to alleviate his suffering. Arms and legs are slashed with razor blades or broken glass. Dark alters know the difference between a longitudinal and a lateral cut to a vein. They know which is the most difficult to repair and most likely to kill. For some alters, suicide is the goal.

“Others burn the body with cigarettes, candles or hot irons, which explains why many multis wear long-sleeved blouses, even on the hottest summer days. Multiples with dangerous alters keep a good first aid kit on hand to repair the damage done by their dark alters. A  [1]“defender”might want to tell you about the “cutter’ or a “burner” in their system, but in telling you, they are afraid you won’t like them or be their friend anymore, which of course isn’t so.

“All multis are secretive about what they are going through, rightly fearing they would be shunned by society or institutionalized. No wonder so many are suicidal.” (Skolfield, 2004)

Some of my alters definitely were demonized, and their job was to maim and kill me. I’ve cut myself, I’ve been suicidal, I’ve tried to will myself to die when I was very sick, and gone through years of depression. If anyone got too close to discovering what I was doing, I would switch and become a different person, completely throwing them off-balance so they would doubt themselves and leave me alone. It’s been quite a task trying to recreate certain scenes even in the past 15 years, and quite shocking to learn that I am missing time even as recently as a few years ago.

Even though I never attempted suicide, I have died three times. I met Jesus on one of those occasions, and I was on my face before Him, repenting for wanting to kill myself. I realized that life is a gift, and He sent me back to keep living. Eventually I came to understand why I was suicidal, and I have received deliverance and much healing in Jesus’ name.

Years ago I knew a young woman – I’ll call her Annie – who seemed to be many different personalities. She had a blog account on a certain social network account – or rather she had four or five of them. She had attempted suicide several times, and she was a Christian. Her parents got word through some of her friends that she was hospitalized again after cutting, or taking an overdose. I prayed for her a lot, and chatted with her.

Finally I had an opportunity to meet her face to face in (we’ll say) Austin, Texas, when I accompanied my husband on a business trip. I invited her over and we talked and prayed, and since I had my guitar, we even sang some worship songs. There was no doubt that Annie loved the Lord. We had a great visit and each shared a bit of it on our blogs.

After that, I stumbled onto a new account where Annie was going by a very dark name and there were a lot of images of blood and death. I was blown away. I tried to contact her but she wouldn’t answer.

A few weeks later her parents sent word again that Annie was in the hospital again, and she had overdosed on medication so that now she was in a coma. I followed her progress for many months until my husband and I had to move to Trinidad in the West Indies. Her parents were heartbroken over Annie’s condition. Her pastors were unable to explain it. Then I lost touch. I heard that Annie died, never having recovered consciousness. [Update: I contacted an old friend to find out if she heard anything about Annie, and she said she thought she was still living in Texas. I’ll follow this trail as far as it lets me go. I hope I find her.]

At that time in my life, I was in total denial about DID. Since I was in denial, I simply accepted what I had heard – that it meant demon possession. And I grieved over Annie and wondered why God didn’t deliver her.

Now when I re-index my mental files, I see what was wrong with Annie, and I wish I had known then what I know now. I wish I could comfort her parents and help them understand what happened to their daughter. I suppose that’s all you can do in retrospect.

But I’m not satisfied. Now I ask God to show me the truth of DID and to allow me the chance to help others begin their journey to recovery.

If you need an ear, a prayer or just a loving friend to help you sort things out, please reach out. You are loved, and I will pray with you or for you.

In Jesus’ love,

Cate

 

[1] Most multiple systems have one or more “defender” alters. Their purpose is to protect other alters or the body from physical or psychological harm. They usually remain inside, only coming out during times of stress or danger. Defenders are usually open, honest and easy to get along with. I rarely met a defender I didn’t like.

A Bruised Reed…

My beloved sisters and brothers,

There is no doubt that being a multiple can be lonely and difficult, and often frightening. There are many times we long for someone who has been there to help us find the path, the road signs,that point in the direction of wholeness.

As I was praying about how to share with you, the Lord gave me a scripture:

Mat 12:20-21 A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory. (21) And in his name shall the Gentiles trust.

I checked the original Greek with Strong’s.

That word “bruised” means:

συντρίβω, suntribō, soon-tree’-bo
From G4862 and the base of G5147; to crush completely, that is, to shatter (literally or figuratively): – break (in pieces), broken to shivers (+ -hearted), bruise.

And “break” means:

κατάγνυμι, katagnumi, kat-ag’-noo-mee
From G2596 and the base of G4486; to rend in pieces, that is, crack apart: – break.

So this verse is saying that Jesus will not tear apart one who is already shattered (a perfect description of DID/MPD). He will not capitalize on our weakness and use it to our disadvantage. Rather, He will give us hope and we will trust in Him.

Sometimes feelings of condemnation, guilt, and many fears threaten to overtake us. We feel like we don’t fit in with others, and we have a secret to guard.

Jesus is the very One who made a way for us to live through trauma by allowing us to create alters, and He knows exactly what needs to happen in order for us to heal. The One in Whom we place our trust will remain the only One who is truly able to love and complete us in our brokenness – to gather up the fragments of ourselves – and bring us unity within. His love brings freedom, and covers a multitude of sins.

Some of our alters and fragments are/were in need of healing and deliverance. Jesus is utterly trustworthy to heal and deliver you. Call out to Him, and trust Him; He will bind up your wounds and bring peace to your soul.

This is the time to rejoice in the victory that is ahead, and to praise God for you are fearfully and wonderfully made!

May the Lord give you His Shalom, and light your path through the darkness. In Yeshua’s (Jesus’) name.

Cate

 

Missing Pieces of Me – Part 2

The Alaska years

From Wichita, Kansas, we moved to Anchorage, Alaska, where my father took a position working for Radio Alaska. Later we moved to Fairbanks, where he became the manager of KFRB radio in Fairbanks. My memories of Alaska are jumbled up, and I’m not sure where some of these things took place. The following events occurred over a three to four year period. The time-line is hazy for me… I will share some personal anecdotes because they help to flesh out my feelings and impressions of my parents, which will be important to what happens along the way.

There were the three of us kids when we moved to Anchorage. Daddy worked at the radio station, but he was often out in the field gathering news and reporting on local events. One time he took me along with him for a day of publicity work. First we went to the airport where he showed me the plane he was flying (he had a private pilot’s license) from Juneau to Whitehorse and other places. Then he took me out on a commercial king crab boat. Those crabs were huge – some of them had a diameter larger than my own height – and I was terrified. With Daddy’s help, I climbed up on his shoulders and refused to come down for fear of those monsters.

One day my mother had a lady visitor come for coffee. They were sitting at the kitchen table, which had a door leading into back yard, and she sent my sister and me out to play. It was odd for my mother to have a lady friend come over – she did not get along with other women. The house we were living in had a big stockade fence surrounding the back yard.  I took my sister by the hand, and led her out of the gate and behind the fence into the area behind our yard. I saw a [1]mountain lion sitting just watching us, and first I froze and told my sister to stop. Then we carefully and slowly went back to the gate and got inside to safety. We rushed in to tell my mom and her company that we saw a lion, but neither of them believed us, no matter how much I insisted.

My brother Clifton came along, making us the Four Little “C’s”. Mom was a dog breeder, raising Weimeraners and Basenjis. My Nana later told me that Daddy also gave my mother her own radio show “It’s a Woman’s World” so that she would be too busy with radio life to take her frustrations out on me. I remember hearing her intro to her show on the radio, and I was glad she was doing the show because that meant she wasn’t at home. I knew that my mother was the one in charge in our home a great deal of the time. We were somewhat wealthy during these years, and we had nannies and nurses to care for us when our mother was away.

I don’t know what to make of this next event… for years I have told this story, and this is how I remembered it: my sister and I were in a room and Daddy came in and gave me a peeled orange, and left. I shared the orange with my sister. A little while later, Daddy came in and handed another peeled orange to my sister. I told him I had given her half of mine, and I expected him to tell her to share hers with me. But instead he said; “I didn’t tell you to share”. I’ve always felt uneasy with this scene; I could never figure out Daddy’s reasoning, because it just didn’t fit with my image of him.

But just lately as I’ve been praying for the Lord to show me things, I’ve reluctantly allowed the blinders to come off so I could interpret what I already knew but wouldn’t address. The “room” we were in was a utility closet next to the kitchen; there was a water heater, a bag of dogfood, a mop and a broom. There were no windows. I have seen my father as a hero and the apple of my eye all these years, and I just couldn’t accept that my sister and I were being kept in a closet with his knowledge. I feel certain that it wasn’t Daddy who put us there in the first place, but that he knew we’d be hungry so he brought us an orange. I can’t understand why we were kept in the closet, and I don’t know anything about what was happening elsewhere in the house.

I have another memory of all four of us kids (little brother Clifton was crawling and getting into stuff) in that utility closet and we were hungry so we decided to try the dry dogfood. I remember we all ate it, and I vomited it up later. Again, I don’t know why we were there, but we were hungry. There were no chairs or furniture to sit on, it was just a utility closet and we were standing in a sort of triangle facing each other, with Clifton crawling around on the floor in a nightgown with a drawstring at the bottom so his feet weren’t sticking out; he was pretty grubby looking, but was the happiest of the four of us.

My dad loved to camp and often took us camping in the wild beside a river. He dug a latrine for us and taught us how to sit over the edge of a log, and how to use a shovel afterwards. He caught fish for us and cooked it over the campfire. He also loved to hunt. I was Daddy’s girl, and I loved camping! Whenever we were out in the wild, my dad was definitely in charge, and my mother was usually busy with the baby or off doing her own thing.

One day Daddy brought home two gigantic king salmon. One was my height, and the other came up to my chest. Daddy wrapped one of them in foil and baked it in the oven, and we feasted on it. I was so proud that my father could bring home meat that he caught or hunted himself.

I lost my first tooth on a piece of birdshot in a Ptarmigan that we were eating for dinner. My sister knocked my second tooth out of my mouth with her head while we were tussling on the floor. She got a neat little dent in her forehead, but it soon went away, while I had the look of a jack-o-lantern and hated to see myself in the mirror.

We had a nurse/nanny who made cookies for us one day. They were white with green icing, and since green meant poison, I was sure that she meant to poison us. I took my little sister by the hand and we left. We walked several blocks, past a construction site, and the whole time I tried to reason with myself about why the nurse would want to poison us. I finally decided that we were tired and needed to go back, and so we went home and accepted the cookies.

One day I was sitting in the back yard next to the incinerator. I saw a small spider and I was so petrified of spiders that normally I would have run away. But for some reason I told myself that I could overcome my fear of spiders if I let this one climb up my arm. So I gritted my teeth and let it crawl on my hand, then up my wrist, but by the time it got to the middle of my forearm I went into a panic and shook it off, screaming. I don’t know why I was so terrified of spiders, but this is unfortunately one fear I have still not conquered – every single night of my life I check under the covers and on the walls and floor and ceiling to make sure I can’t see any spiders before I go to sleep.

One time Daddy and a man we called “Uncle” Luke went to a swap meet where Alaska Native people had booths selling their furs and goods. I became separated from Daddy and Luke as I was weaving in and out in the crowd, looking past big-people legs as I tried to see what was going on. When I realized I was lost, I started to cry out for Daddy. It wasn’t too long before he found me and scooped me up, and put me on his shoulders so I could see and stay safe.

My mother was learning to [2]fence. She and Uncle Luke were wearing strange white costumes with face guards. They fenced in the living room, but their foils were not sharp. My mother’s aggression came out when she did this, and she seemed energized by it. She laughed and flirted with Uncle Luke, and even though she didn’t really win, she claimed victory. It was fun but a little scary watching. She could be very dangerous when she was angry, (Nana told me that she once picked up a 60 pound Weimeraner and heaved it across the room in a fit of anger) and it was best to let her win.

One day my dad took me for a ride to town. He had a book in the car, and I could already read at four. I sounded out the title, and I asked him what the John Birch Society was. He said it was something that wasn’t [3]very nice, and we shouldn’t say that name in front of other people. Daddy had some business to attend to and I couldn’t accompany him, so he dropped me off at a house where a very strange old lady was babysitting a bunch of kids. She made us all sleep in cribs, and she kept moving between our cribs checking on us. I don’t know why, but I was afraid of her, so I pretended to be asleep. I hated that place and told Daddy about it when he picked me up. I begged him not to take me back there, and he said he wouldn’t.

Daddy liked to play poker, and occasionally had men over to the house for card parties. We lived in a different house, and I had a bedroom next to the dining room where Daddy and his friends were playing poker. I had a crib for a bed. I couldn’t sleep with all the noise the men were making, so I climbed out of bed and went to Daddy. I asked him if I could play poker too, and he asked the other guys if they would let me sit in for a hand. They agreed, and he told me that Poker was a very hard game to learn, and I would probably lose. He said I needed to bet something, and told me I could play if I bet my bedroom and all my toys. I quickly agreed, certain I couldn’t lose, and they dealt me in. Of course I lost, but I kept a stiff upper lip as he explained that now my room and my toys belonged to these men. Then asked the guys if they would let me have my room and my toys back if I promised not to play poker anymore, and they all agreed, so I kissed my dad and said thank you and hurried back to bed, greatly relieved. (Ironically, a few years later Daddy taught me how to play Stud Poker, Black Jack and Solitaire.)

That “bedroom” was a large closet. It was just big enough for my crib and some shelves in the back with my clothes and toys. No windows. Without going into unnecessary details, I was four years old and already aware of my own sexuality. I also knew that there was something wrong with this, so I kept it a secret. I was learning to hide things from my mother especially, in order to avoid being hit or slapped.

The house in Fairbanks was a two-story house. I had my own “bedroom”: again it was a large walk-in closet with no windows. This one was large enough for my twin bed, a dresser and a few toys. There was a hanging lamp. I remember the day the big [4]earthquake hit. I was up in my room being punished by Carol, the babysitter. The dresser drawers were coming open, the light was swinging, and my bed was shaking. At first I thought our dog, Bubu, was in the room shaking the bed, but I realized she couldn’t make the drawers move out or make the door and lamp swing, so I got up and dashed for the door, shouting for Carol. She told me to stand in the frame of the door and not to come downstairs until it stopped. I was very afraid, but after the quake and a few aftershocks, it stopped and things seemed to go back to normal.

There was no Kindergarten where we were living, so I started school in first grade. I was in school when the news came over the loudspeaker that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated. My teacher started weeping, and so all of the students in my class became afraid and we, too, started crying.

Daddy became ill and lost his voice – later we found out that Daddy had cancer. The following we packed up and moved to the California desert to be close to Nana (Daddy’s mother). My mother went ahead to California with the two boys, and Daddy and Christi and I drove the ALCAN highway, camping all along the way. What a joy to have my daddy to myself, without my mother to interfere or punish me for every little thing.  It was an experience I have always treasured in my heart.

To be continued…

[1] Sometimes when I have shared this story, people have challenged me, saying there are no mountain lions in Alaska. While it is true that they were rare, it was not unheard of for them to range so far north, and I stand by my account of this event.

[2] Fencing, also called Olympic fencing, is a sport in which two competitors fight using ‘Rapier-style’ swords, winning points by making contact with their opponent.

[3] Upon reflection I speculate that my father was doing research for his radio show.

[4] The Great Alaska Earthquake and Tsunami of March 27, 1964. On March 27, 1964 at 5:36pm local time (March 28 at 3:36 UTC) a great earthquake of magnitude 9.2 occurred in the Prince William Sound region of Alaska