9. More behind Page 5?

On the evening of 11/5 I still needed to visit one place. An Open Day was held at a High School in the North Eastern Suburbs. As previously, as soon as I had seen the advertisement (in the local newspaper, I think) I knew I would be there. I had absolutely no reason to go there, but something was waiting for me. I sensed it as soon as I got there. The headmasters surname, if we add an R,  makes Brain. Her Christian name in Da Ninci 'All nd and L." 

I walked into the Geology class room. On a table a headline in a piece of artwork caught my attention - How a star is born. That sounded interesting, I thought. The creator, Bryan H. (the creator of the artwork) had researched, or invented, that a star is be born in the the following manner:

A cloud heats up to 27 000 000 degrees Fahrenheit, this starts a nuclear reaction, which in 50 million years time will give birth to a star. 

How impressive is that? I can't remember learning this at school. I had to respond to such wisdom, so I sent the following email to the school. 

Hi all,
Last evening I paid a brief visit during your open day. In the Geology Dept. I read a study by Bryan H. "How a star is born".

The information was rather unbelievable - the temperature* inside a cloud reaches 27 000 000 C F. which then causes a nuclear fusion. This stage take approx. 50 million years.

My question to Bryan - what happens after the 50 million years?
Kind regards
Dieter Fischer
ISA 486

PS  If Bryan can't answer my question, we'll just have to wait and see!


* BION (Believe it or not) - As I proofread, within a second, at 9.47 PM 19/7/06, the Radio announcer from Port Wakefield said the word temperature. (During the weather forecast).


To me the notion of cloud and high temperature didn't go well together; cloud and moisture perhaps? How on earth did anyone measure 27 million degrees or 50 million years. Readers may accuse me of making many assumptions. They must agree, however, that for scientists to claim something takes 50 million years, also involves many assumptions. (This is something scientists and I have in common - we make assumptions which no one else can prove). 

Did any other visitor read about the star's pregnancy and ask questions? As long as Bryan gets a well-paid job after leaving school, who cares? Unless he progresses to university, where he learns that it all started about 400 million years ago (or whatever the latest theory is) with a tiny cell, which in the end became a monkey, who is now your father? 

The road safety display, which I was shown by an obviously dedicated teacher, made more sense and has a more practicable application. (And we won't have to wait 50 million years for any results).     

Much later did I see and translate the name of the High School into my language Good One IA. Much later again, as I was writing this chapter, did I see more. If I played with the name of the school - took the s as 5, the i as 1 and the a as 1 - I can make 115, that day's date. But why will that matter in 50 million years?

- - - - - - -


This is a souvenir tea towel, still wrapped in plastic. I picked it up on 30/6 (note the date) after paying a brief visit to a local school at Elizabeth Park. (I briefly touched on it in Chapter 7). 

It is from Australia's Playground, the Gold Coast. The price tag ($ 1.00) has also the date on it, 29.6. Why would you write a price tag and include the date, unless it was food? 

Here is the magic: I had no idea, what I was looking for, but driving away from the school, there was a distinct drawing inside me, to drive into the shopping Centre carpark on Innes St. Elizabeth Park. 

I walked into the Goodwill Second Hand Store, with no idea why. I almost walked out without anything, when I turned and saw the Gold Coast Souvenir. 

Innes points very much to Nine, which was that day's date, if I added 3+6. 9 went well with 3 + 6. Another reason this is so unreal - I got back into my Suzuki just as the clock read 9.36. (I had not set to the correct time in months). 

Writing about this I keep thinking back to a weird T-towel experience in Perth, Western Australia.

- - - - - - -     

As the sage of my unusual journey continues I am becoming more and more convinced that God is doing something big, unusual, international. What started as a fight to expose a provincial Government's stuff-up, progressed to a fight for my sanity. IT has grown to become a huge, central issue, albeit in the way of a sub-culture.

From my observations IT is making waves in various parts of the world. The following sequence of events led me to Italy, an address in Italy, anyway. Watching the breakfast program Sunrise, I caught an address just as the ad disappeared from the TV screen.  

The day was a Friday. The date was 19/5. That's why the address clicked immediately - 95 Graves Street. I did not even see what their product was. But those numbers, together with the word Graves was hard to ignore.

The next morning I  took the opportunity for some exercise on the bicycle. I also carried a few of my whistle-blowing letters to Adelaide's Churches, hoping I would find opportunity to drop a few into various places (which I did that morning).

My first stop was near the K-Mart on Montague Road. I took a photo of some graffiti. The large, black letters on the back of a white sign read very clearly - MC ML (the down stroke of the M was part of the L), underneath was MC B. (I will not show it for obvious reasons). 

I purposely cycled past the spot on Grand Junction Road, where it had been reported, a 70-year old man had been struck and killed by a car. Right across the road from there was Down Drive, the place where I drove down to one morning, parked my car and investigated a car crash). But investigating crashes was something I did not do very often in Mid 2006. 

At Holden Hill a boat on a lawn outside a corner block caught my eyes. The number painted on the boat was HE47. It was an odd number in more ways than mathematically. It made me turn and drop one of my newly acquired cards from the LLL. 


Blessed is he who trusts in the Lord. Prov. 16, 1. May I add: Those who trust in HIM can stand tall, like this giraffe. 


Next came two surprise numbers, if I could still get surprised by numbers. One was the house number, where the boat was parked, No. 16. The other were cars 444 and 086, very close together. People either made up little games to play, or it was pure co-incident. Either way, my diary does not lie - the number 44 and the number 486 had both played major roles in my biography in recent times. No one can deny that. 

Graves Street Number 95 was a place selling tiles, imported expensive ceramic tiles from Italy. As I locked up my bike outside the large, modern showroom, I saw a vehicle, rego W..891 parked in the carpark.  

(In a way it is strange to communicate with someone via numbers. But then, maybe it's a good way of doing so. Perhaps we all ought to learn certain numbers for certain nasty words. Instead of insulting someone with: "You idiot", we could call out "UID 10+!" This would be less upsetting). 

Hey, talking about swearing, 891 Radio 5 AN has a fundraiser going at the time of writing. Swear and you have to donate to charity, how timely is this?

And this: Only hours before writing this, I was sitting at the Traffic Lights on Melbourne Street, North Adelaide. On 891 I heard the announcer mention - The Store. My Suzuki was within 3 meters of the entrance to a Cafe called "The Store". (What came next lasted about 1/2 hour and would take a whole chapter - food for another chapter of incredible guiding). 

Browsing inside the tile showroom I had no idea what to look for. When a sales assistant asked me, if she can help, I should have said: "Yes, but I don't know, what with. I am in love with Da N-Vinci and you can perhaps show me ...".  Instead I said: "Thanks, is it OK if I am just browsing?"

Why on earth was I there for? After a minute or two I walked toward the service desk. On my left, between some display tiles, almost hidden, were a few brochures. I picked one up after I saw the two letters YU.


From a brochure on imported Italian ceramic tiles


YU is a question I have asked myself for years. The company name D & L, C on ca, were just a start. For a moment I thought it was a US company, from Ca. But this YU tile manufacturer is in San Clemente, Italy. (RN stands for Rimini).

Interesting to note that the letter 0 was popular around that time. You think it fits?


Cycling west down Graves Street I stopped at two more places. Only a few hundred meters on I saw a special deal advertised in big letters, $ 59. It made sense. Next, at the end of the street, on the property of a large church, I happened to notice a man wearing a clerical collar. He was just about to walk into a doorway. So I made a point of catching him. I gave him one of my letters, asking if he could pass it on to the Head Priest. He probably was the Head Priest. Above the door was a number, the house number. It was 59.

- - - - - - -

Right: This number 59 is not the one I referred to above. It's an address in the Adelaide suburb of Klemzig. I had heard of a food contamination scare (LAsagna). Lots did not make sense. I suspected a bull-story. The feeling was so strong that one evening I drove to the factory and took this photo. Friends, I could write a book every day.

Timing again: On the day of writing a government officer phoned, requesting I send in my instructor's license. (I had requested a refund for the remaining 2 years 10 months). Expiry date: 1/5/09. 

 (The timing in writing all this, in Chapter 9 with 5 in the headline, is not my skill, it really his HIS. HE is all knowing, all-powerful).


As mentioned in the previous chapter, I believed from observations I made, God's leading toward another journey across the Pacific. Some of it came from observations on the television, both from programs originating in the USA, and from local stations. 

The more chapters I wrote and published, so I believed, the more readers took my thoughts seriously. This followed that they were possibly worried about my wellbeing and therefore suggested another walk across to the USA. 

- - - - - - -

(19/7/06 - 2.15 pm) Here is the latest, which confirms to me that people were reading my website and even following my movements: Approx. 12 minutes ago I posted a message onto an organisation's website. I had seen their web address in a shop-window during this mornings 1/2 hour walk. 

I thought, maybe I was being tested, if God could really guide me to their website. Then they may believe that my writing is all for real?

I logged onto their site, pressed contact and made a brief enquiry about a meeting. Before the message was to go through, a word came up, which I was to type into a box as verification. The word was suffer. 

There was an option to choose another word, if suffer was not readable. Out of curiosity I clicked it and the new word came up: realm. My email went through. A window came up to say, they received my message.

What was their message to Mr. Realm?

 - - - - - - -

A three part charade, orchestrated possibly by some of my most ardent readers recently, made me think: Am I to get a message: Go to the USA. Here is what I noticed, while taking my dog Becky for a walk one evening, only days ago. As I walked past our local supermarket I touched base with three people, all of whom I knew from church. Two from a previous church, one from the current one we attend. 

The first young man greeted me as he was about to climb into his vehicle. We chatted for a moment, when he pointed out that there had been an altercation inside the store. A little later he was shouting to a person across the road: "Go away, go, go". (Was this what I was meant to do?)

As we were till talking, another young man came walking by, also a member our previous church. We chatted a little longer. I had met his parents; his mother had had a few driving lessons. His father's surname is identical, both surname and Christian name, to that of a US President. (Is this where I was meant to go?)

A third person walked by. It all took place within minutes. She gave a greeting in passing and continued to the nearby Automatic Teller Machine. (This person knew much about my earlier trip or trips to the USA). She was withdrawing funds, I assumed. (Was this how I was meant to get there? 

(I knew I would need more than bottle-tops. If anybody wonders, how much in donations came through my driving school website, since I installed the donations button - $ 0.00). 

Whilst I understood immediately that the second young man's name was pointing in one direction, the names of the other two 'actors took a little longer. One sounds very much like Key, the other How (how in German is wie). 

(I am writing this to assure my supporters I see what you may be trying to do. But I am reliant on ONE source of strength and direction. HIM will I obey to the end). 

Another strong hint that a trip in an airplane was in the air (pardon the pun) came via the number 747. What better number than this to associate with flying? It came on the day after I had uploaded the previous chapter, which as you may recall, was filled with numerous, significant odometer readings, such as 177 (which happens to be the date of writing this first draft).

Driving to church that Sunday morning (on 2/7) with my wife I glanced at the odometer for no real reason. I saw (220) 747. At the same moment the trip meter read 47.4. The similarity spooked me just a little. I mentioned it to Isobel, but I should have known better. I received a mild rebuke, in return, but not a black eye, thankfully, just kidding. 

Her reaction was, as if I had seen two spiders make love on the dashboard and asked her: "Shall we park the car and ....kill the spiders?" My playfulness, with numbers especially, was not very well received. (In five days we will have been married 35 years. I better not give her 35 roses. She will think I am playing my 3 & 5 numbers game again).  

My crazy ways about numbers etc may still be bothering her. She may be fearful that I could once again go silly. But what harm is there in reading the digitals on the speedometer and having some fun with it? Fun at home; at least for the moment. 

If she only knew that observing 747 on the dash may again lead me to board a jet plane to LA, she may have taken more notice, because there was more. Minutes later, sitting in church (a different one we normally go to) I came across a matching number on the front page of the church bulletin. Of course, there are many numbers in any bulletin. But this one was special. I knew it as soon as I read it. The first part was my often used, odd number 135, the remainder was 7474.  

But there was still more. (It only came while writing this chapter). The number referred to a person, whose home address is - No. 35 Ls on the cross* Street.  

*Isn't this incredible timing: While writing this paragraph, I walked into the lounge to get my bible. On ABC TV a person is being interviewed on a program called Enough Rope. His name is Ben 'L on the Cross'.

(John Williamson would agree; trying to absorb all this could drive a man to drink).


- - - - - - -

A small find, while walking my dog, Becky.

This interesting, tiny bit of plastic had me puzzled. I am unsure, what it is used for, a key ring is my guess?  

If the fourth word from the top Koningin is meant to be Queen (in German), there is a N too many (the fifth letter). At the time I found this Chapter 6 of this book was the current one. Only after scanning did I notice the tiny number 6.

On the reverse side is a photo of a pretty girl's face, somebody's queen?

- - - - - - -


Just as well I am not a drinker. There was more, which my mind found hard to comprehend. Two items, both of which I suspected were bull dust, came across my path. The first puzzle was about a bone, a missing bone to be exact. A friend lend me a Christian book - 90 Minutes in Heaven. (Aha, I once before uncovered some incredible claims in a Christian book with the word Heaven in the title - The Heavenly man). 

Here is a short brief: In 1989 a Christian Pastor has a head-on automobile crash with a semi-trailer and dies. Another Pastor comes along and is 'led by the spirit' to pray for this dead man.  A miracle happens. The singing and praying of the Pastor brings the dead man, named Don, back to life again. (I am not through with the book yet). 

To pray for a dead person is not something Pastors do. If so, it is for one reason only - to raise up the deceased. (It happens, believe me, but it is rare. Jesus himself only scored a hat-trick in his three years of working miracles on earth).

Right from the start I felt uneasy reading the story. What I read on page 59, sorry 58, the dead man's struggle to recover from his ordeal, made me class it as bull dust. You judge:


Extract from 90 Minutes in Heaven, Don Piper with Cecil Murphey. 


In the second line, isn't the author almost saying: "What on earth am I here for?" Nothing else makes much sense. 

It may be that lungs fill with fluid, while lying flat on your back. But I don't understand, why a missing bone in the leg makes you lie flat. 

Just picture it: Your car crashes full force into a big truck. Your leg is crushed between the seat and the dash. One bone dislodges and flies through the shattered window into the nearby lake. 

But there is hope for the Pastor. It says in the scriptures that our bones will come together again at the resurrection. Whoever will be in charge will remember the bone in the lake, no worry.  


The second puzzling page, which could drive a man to drink, trying to understand it all, was Page 5 in the July 06 edition of the monthly Baptist News. The average Baptist reader may have glanced over the page and swallowed it all without chewing. I saw things differently. 

I had perused the free newsletter casually, after receiving it in church on the Sunday prior. Only later in the week, for whatever reason, I again looked at it and discovered Page 5. It must have been the combination of the word Centenary (100) and the page number, which triggered my subconscious mind. I looked a little more carefully and saw the suburb. If I substituted a c for an o, I read look -leys. (It only just came, did somebody C the 0?)

Was I on a trail again to catch somebody playing games? It certainly looked like it. Underneath the Lockleys 100 year-centenary announcement were other advertisements. One was by the Australian Faith Nurses Community Association.

Under that name, I could not find them in the Adelaide phonebook. In the place, where they would be alphabetically listed, I found the 'Australian False Memory Association' (AFMA). No joke. 

(How would you answer a question about your occupation at a party: "I am the Office Manager of the False Memory Association. And what do you do?" If they were to experience co-incidences as much as I do, the answer may be: That's interesting, I work as on-site inspector for the False Teeth Association).  

(Sorry, back to page 5). I found the Faith Nurses online, but no physical street address. So I made that an excuse to email them.

As I moved down page 5 of my B' News another advertisement made me suspicious immediately. The 7th Biennial National Conference of the Australian Library Association (ALA) was to be held in a certain Adelaide Conference Centre. Weeks earlier, one Sunday afternoon I was led to this same Conference Centre in Adelaide's hill suburb of Blackwood, which held distant memories of pure magic (I had been framed - Mind, Chapter 34). The Conference Center's address was No. 5 ... (Long story, but in the end, it all fell into place.)

The Australian Library Association was not in the phonebook or online either. But I found an Australian Library and Information Association ALIA. By now I suspected a lia (sic), or someone playing games was at work. The website of ALIA showed that there was a conference coming up - it was to be held in Perth, not in Adelaide, around the same time.

It could not have been a printing error, Adelaide instead of Perth, or indeed another Library Association was holding a 7th biennial function. But why would they advertise in the Baptist News? Aha, water, book, drink, Chapter 5 - that would make sense - with a 50 million to 1 chance. 


Baptist News July 06, Page 5




I have no doubt above celebrations will turn into a wonderful occasion. The Blazing Bullocks will cater the Saturday Night dinner. They are lucky, to just have missed September 11. 

But the most striking fact I found, was their street address: 1 Cross Street.

More came, as I was sitting on the toilet, just then - loom, plus 1 makes loon. This name is the contact person for the Faith Nurses. Loon may have come from Loot, which bring us to NT, but we won't go over all that again. 


There were two previous occasions, when I was very unhappy about what was written in the Baptist News. About seven years ago, around the time I was very depressed, an article appeared, which I regarded as nothing short of feminist propaganda. The writer, a lady obviously, suggested to form a church, consisting only of females. This was around the time, when every edition of the daily paper had at least one article, where a woman did something, which no other woman had ever achieved before. Perhaps this kind of thinking gave her the idea.

Another article in 2004 was written as editorial by a very senior Baptist leader. His article was about adults leading by example. I can't recall details, only the bombshell suggestion, that a certain Senator in Canberra would make a good role model for our young people. The gentleman Senator in Canberra openly lives the homosexual lifestyle.

It really surprised me in two ways. Firstly, that a Baptist Leader would write this. Secondly, how little debate, outrage or support, followed after either article was published. (I suppose, if you believe, one of your bones can fly out the window after a car crash, why should you pick a bone with anyone? But really, are Christians really this naive, taking everything they read as Gospel?) 

But wait a minute. If the Baptist News editor indeed gave a clue, a hidden code in the heading is there something more behind Page 5? If this is so, whatever it is, who knows?

As my journey continues on its winding path, I refuse to do one thing - be pressured by anything or anyone or let anything worry me.  

Instead, I will sit back and allow my mind to reminisce on all the wonderful things HE has brought me through and done for me. Lately my thoughts have reflected on the miracle, when in my darkest hours, God gave me the five-letter word - Trust. Nothing more than prayer, which is Trust in action, and the knowledge of who is in control has kept me going.

Psalm 46 expresses the hope, the peace, the calm you can experience amidst your darkest hours and your greatest fears. Trust HIM that HE will shelter you under HIS wings. There you will find refuge (from Psalm 91).

Despite a world in turmoil - earthquakes, tsunamis (one which occurred on 17.7 is making headlines as I write) and nations fighting etc. God is still in control. Peace will ultimately come from God, who will destroy the enemy's weapons (Psalm 46 V.9).

God is our refuge and strength (V.1) ...

Therefore, we will not fear (V.2) ...

Come, behold the works of the Lord (V.8) ... (See also Isaiah 48,6)

He makes wars cease to the end of the earth (V.9)...

Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations (V10).


Chapter 10