|THE WINNER GAVE IT ALL|
12. Game - play for D
It lasted only one second, two days ago. I should not have been surprised, really, since the sudden appearance of a number, at a time to match, has happened for many years. After my perceiving mind becomes aware of these links, it has to decide, if this is something special, and if so, is it co-incident or not?
Rather than fewer, I see more and more of these links and thank God that I am able to cope with it all.
So then, was the following incident a co-incident? Two days ago I woke in the middle of the night, because it was hot. During the brief second, as I pushed the covers away to cool down, my eye caught a glimpse of the time on the digital clock: 2.22. I did not wake properly, yet even in that brief moment I thought of the date: Feb. 22 or 2.22. (May those who regard this as crazy, please acknowledge my consistency in being crazy!)
Here's more, crazy maybe, but as true and factual as yesterday's weather forecast. My part-time employment is driving a small bus, picking up clients for their monthly bus tour. Early in 2012 at Salisbury Heights I was steering the bus through a narrow suburban street, when my hawke-eye spotted an RCV (recreational vehicle). On the side in large letters I read: ESCAPE.
As I negotiated a roundabout, about three seconds after the Escape vehicle in the driveway, I read a street name - Birt St. Aha, I thought, minus R code = B it. There had been many such messages within the hundreds of chapters in my ten books-journey. At least one trip away, the 2003 surprise departure from Melbourne was an escape; an escape to LA? (Read on for an unusual LA code!)
During the same bus pick-up, this was about two weeks into 2012, I spotted two men, standing beside two motor cars. They were just talking to each other, yet I became suddenly aware of them. It was more than just two pedestrians, talking to each other in their driveway. It's hard to explain. As was my habit, quite subconsciously, I looked at the registration plates - ...914 and ...915.
I remembered these for two reasons. One, the PLUS 1 code. Two, because of the street name right there: Norton Street ...
My diary says that on the same evening an ad on TV advertised flights and accommodation to LA for $ 1441. (Remember, symbolically an N inside a cross = 414).
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Jeremy Lin - hottest property in world sport in 2012.
Don't U LOVE L IN? How about ... RE MY JE . . .
Jeremy certainly is in the right place - NY...
Why N? He is turning the world upside down with his number
I 7 = L I
(Little wonder - Channe l 7 loves him).
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After writing above number 414 and the flight to LA for 1441, I caught up the reading for Feb. 23rd in Our Daily Bread. Bill Crowder, another US star basket-baller, sorry bible teacher, whom I have met personally, was the author that day. The key verse: Hebrews 4, 16:
Whenever this scripture is quoted, I remember that I learned in school, studying the Second World War, that this bible verse was part of a speech given by a big bad German dictator. I never forgot it.
Reading the commentary of Our Daily Bread, I was somewhat surprised as I read the very first sentence: "During World War II, the British Isles represented the last line of resistance against the sweep of Nazi oppression in Europe ...". (Bills message was simple: Don't let prayer be your last recourse in time of need; make it your first.)
Afterwards, something brewed inside my brain. It came, as it usually does, with a numbers twist. The scripture verse Hebrews 4, 14 actually contains the words 'Jesus the Son of God'. Curious about this (considering NOS and 414) I decided to check all Chapters 4 Verse 14 in the New Testament. I found that Hebrews 4,14 is the only one containing both words, Jesus and Son!
First John 4, 14 mentions the word Son, but not Jesus: "And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent the Son as Saviour of the world." In Verse 15 John goes on to state the Good News very plainly:
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(Back on the bus in Salisbury Heights)
Later that January day, as I passed the same spot on the return journey, there was another vehicle parked beside the other two - a British make - Mini (= IM IN).
The last drop-off, after the above bus tour, was in Salisbury Heights. In the street where my last client disembarked (read on for the very appropriate street name) a police car was parked. After I had passed the patrol car, I noticed it moving off, then doing a U-Turn. For a moment I thought I was being checked out, but this was not the case. Still, a strange feeling came over me, strange enough to read the registration plate - ...521.
Writing my diary later things started to add up: C plus 521 = 621, or backwards 126. My closest encounter with police, going back five years, was during the Kapunda Road Royal Commission, where the number 126 played a major role.
The police vehicle at Salisbury Heights was not there by chance.
The date of this incident was 13.01. Later I took another look at 521. What I came up with, I know, sounds far fetched; but hear me out. I added 310 to 521 to arrive at 831. Next I did the same as I did with 621, read it backwards >>> 138.
These detectives not only knew their mathematics, they knew the bible; more specifically, they knew, how I had often quoted a well known scripture using this number:
But there was more - the street name, where I had noticed the police vehicle: Destroyer Street. A strange name, but it's all fact. It is the only street in Adelaide by that name. Now you know, why I said the police know their numbers and bible verses! How I wished it would not all happen in such a mysterious manner!
About a kilometre from Destroyer Street, south of The Grove Way, is Adaleigh Ave. Two days after I had uploaded Chapter 10 a shooting allegedly took place in Adaleigh Ave. Here are extracts from Adelaide Now, our online (Advertiser) newspaper:
(Extracts from (www.AdelaideNow Thomas Conlin and Doug Robertson, December 22, 2011)
Just after sunset on the day after above incident, I took my Giant bike for a ride. Along the way, and right there in Adaleigh Ave, were a number of elaborate Christmas light displays. I took a few photos and also one or the Adaleigh Street sign. One lady asked me, what I was taking a photo of. I mentioned the shooting incident from the day before and left it at that.
Here is the photo, with a little twist, playing my game, crossing off letters and see what's left:
ADELAIDE / ADALEIGH = D G E H
G E H - in German means - G O
(More of the letter D later)
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It would take me a while to explain, when and how I came to be playing this game of letter elimination. Maybe it started after I had written my first whistle-blowing letter to the media over ten years ago? I had sat next to the reporter for The Australian Newspaper during the sentencing of Peter Liddy. Her name was Carol ALTmann, (capital letters intentional, playing games again.)
I ended my letter with this phrase : "No one would like to see the Liddy case turn into a Lindy case." (Book 1, 18) In the same chapter, how fitting here, I also write about another member of the media, a popular, now retired, radio broadcaster named - Jeremy! He was the star on Radio 5 DN - hence my amazement later, at Liddy/Lindy. From then on all seemed to point toward letters, names and numbers.
As I write this chapter the Lindy case, the death of daughter Azaria at Ayers Rock (now called Uluru) on August 17, 1980 is making headline news once again. As I understand it, in the thirty years since, despite having been cleared by a Royal Commission, and three inquests, Lindy is looking to officially be found not guilty of the murder of her baby.
1982 - Michael and Lindy Chamberlain leave a Darwin Court
When Carol Altmann sat next to me at Peter Liddy's sentencing (on 7.9.01) she would not have known of the evidence in favour of Peter Liddy. What if I had had the document right there in my hand, where Peters main accuser had years earlier said, he had never been abused as a child? What if she were to have written an article, casting serious doubts on the credibility of the witness, would her editor have published it?
Sad to say, knowing what I know after studying the case, Carol would never have been allowed to make the the information public. (How timely to be mentioning Carol Altmann here. A few days ago her name crossed my radar, read on).
Unlike my friend Chris Nichols, who was also a newspaper journalist. In 1993 he had uncovered serious corruption, money flowing from the Hotel Industry to a senior government Minister, who helped pass the law that hotels could install poker machines in South Australia. (How many lives have since been ruined by addicts, who just could not control their gambling habits!)
Instead of recognizing Chris Nichols' splendid effort as great investigative journalism, and right that which was wrong, he was asked to reveal (betray) his source of information. He refused to do so. Some smart prosecutor found a law, they applied it and sent Chris to prison - justice South Australian Style. (In a moment we again cross paths with Chris, read on).
Carol Altmann, who long ago left Adelaide, and her position in the newspaper, came across my radar recently. During one of my regular bus tours, where the driver sits with clients to have lunch, I engaged in a conversation with a client I had never met before. The elderly gentleman was very quietly spoken, not saying much at first.
Before long, however, I was spellbound by one of the most tragic stories I have ever heard or read.
Let's call him Todd. One Sunday afternoon in April 1996 he was sitting in a Cafe in Tasmania's number one tourist attraction, Port Arthur, having lunch. His wife saw a scruffy, young man with long, blond hair walk in. He walked past Todd, who only saw the man at the back. The man, who was carrying a rather large bag, walked up to the servery and ordered his lunch.
Todd noticed the bag slip from the man's shoulder and wondered, what was in it. I looked heavy. A few minutes later Australia's most horrific crime took place in that busy Cafe at Port Arthur. The gunman pulled out a deadly weapon and started shooting indiscriminately. Todd at first dove under a table, as did other guests. Many thought it was a kind of act, put on as entertainment for tourists.
Only when he saw his wife bleeding profusely from the head, did he realize what had happened. Her mistake, he told me in a quiet, matter of fact, voice was - she looked the deranged man directly in the eye, instead of also taking cover. In all 35 men, women and children died that afternoon.
Ironically, this sad monument to the brutal history of Australia's early settlement, became Todd's saddest place on earth. Even more ironical - Todd worked in the funeral industry most of his life. That day he saw dozens of dead bodies, including that of his wife.
Carol Altmann wrote a book about this mass murder, titled: After Port Arthur, published by Allen & Unwin.
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Just as the name Altmann crossed my radar in recent days, so did that of Chris Nichols. Again, late one afternoon my Giant bicycle was calling me from the shed. It called for some exercise. Pedalling through Salisbury I remembered, and wanted to take a look at the current living legends, whose photographs were displayed prominently on large posters in the town square.
Since 2005 our living city chooses deserving citizens to recognize their achievements in the community. The new faces, the 'chosen ones' for 2011 had indeed been put up. One lady's name immediately caught my attention. Through my mind flashed a similar name to hers; a second later that of Chris Nichols.
The name of the government Minister, mentioned in the Chris Nichols corruption scandal, was Barbara Wiese. Being German I found this name easy to remember. Wiese translates into meadow. Take a look at the similarity in her name and that of one of Salisbury's Living Legends for 2011: Barbara Wiesner.
[Every] one has a story t [o tell].
But only ONE has the real t story.)
Left: Barbara Wiesner, Salisbury Living Legend 2011
But there was more, more fun with this living legend's name. I played my game of letter elimination. It was not hard to see that the only difference in Wiesner and Wiese is NR. And since Wiese is German and NR is the abbreviation for number in German, I looked for a number. No number anywhere (unless you can read the time on the tower clock - 7.11).
Cycling on, numberless, I pondered, if indeed I was meant to find a number in Barbara's background, if you know what I mean? At home I googled Ranjit Ratna. (I had not written it down, but remembered Ranjit, because our recently retired Premier was called Rann, and jit sounds a bit like .... (...no, forget jit).
Googling it a few URLs came up, but only one showed a number, a long number. (Writing this, I again googled this name, but could not locate the URL. You and I have to trust my diary and Word doc.)
Here is the result of the info I googled, (copy / paste, with some data deleted to protect privacy):
The similar numbers 272 and 27 lead from Canberra to Victoria.
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Turning the clock back two months, a surprise discovery, which almost landed in the trash bin, unnoticed ...
... the delivery ticket for my Suzuki engine!
Why me? Why is it me, who always makes these very strange observations? On the way to picking up my Suzuki, I sat on the bus, looking innocently out the window. East of Adelaide, once you leave the green rolling hills behind you, there is not much to see, but bush, scrub, a few dry lakes and not much else, except a clothesline. Yes, in the middle of, literally, nowhere I spotted a clothesline.
On the return I stopped my newly repaired Suzuki and took this picture with my VR 310. Fortunately, it has a ten-times zoom, because there was a railway line and quite some distance in between.
Place: East of Tailem Bend, South Australia, Date: January 2012
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In the days leading up to this chapter, this day, much dirty washing has been hung out on the political clothes line of Federal politics. As I write, the Labor Party caucus (all Members of Parliament in Canberra) are meeting to decide on their leader. Since Labor is in government, their leader is the Prime Minister, the most powerful person in the country.
My political interest has somewhat moderated in recent years. However, on this issue I felt I ought to let our local Member of Parliament know, how I felt about their leadership issue. (Remember, Ms. Gillard in a rather nasty move in 2010 grabbed the leadership from Kevin Rudd, our elected Prime Minister.)
Many Australians are outraged that Ms. Gillard promised things, to both, the Australian people and the Independents, whose support she needed to form government. She blatantly broke those promises. She promised there would be no carbon tax in a government she leads. Recently she praised her own achievements, saying how she gets things done, like the carbon tax!
To independent Tasmanian MP Andrew Wilkie she promised, if he supported her, she would bring in his reforms regarding poker machines. (Did he know about Barbara Wiese?). He supported her, she became the 27th Prime Minister, but has now backed away from poker machine reform.
In her latest move she moved the chairs around in Parliament. In November 11 the popular speaker, Harry Jenkins, was made to resign. A new one, Peter Slipper was installed, which shifted the balance in the Lower House. She now does not need the support of Andrew Wilkie any longer, so why bother keeping a promise?
Only a week of so ago Ms. Gillard had dinner at her residence with three same-sex couples, who had paid big money ($ 31 000) for the privilege. No doubt, they would have put pressure on her to back away from her promise to not change the Marriage Act in Australia. More than one Bill is already before our Parliament, as I understand it, to legalize same-sex marriage. Time will tell, if Ms. Gillard will bow to pressure and break another pre-election promise.
At the local level, as mentioned before, we had a change in leadership. Our Premier Mike Rann resigned, as did his deputy for many years, Kevin Foley. Both were long-standing, sitting Members of the Labor Party.
Because these two politicians resigned, two bi-elections were held in South Australia on Feb. 11. They were in the electorate of Ramsay (Salisbury area) and Port Adelaide. In Ramsey I assisted a candidate for the Abort SA Party. (Their name should really be 'Don't Abort Party, since their platform is strongly pro-life).
Handing out 'How-to-vote' cards is an eye-opener. Many voters, as they walk by, make cynical remarks. A large proportion refuses to even take any material. Some voters ask you, what do I do? No doubt, many simply write 1, 2, 3 etc into the boxes, so the candidate in the first box gets their No. 1 vote etc.
Another young, first-time voter, I read somewhere, was totally uninformed as to who he should vote for. Since one candidate was called Hawke, and his favourite football team was the Hawks, he voted for Mr. Hawke. Now, that's democracy in action! (Please note, in Australia voting from age 18 years is compulsory).
The writer, outside the polling booth in Salisbury North, Feb. 11th, 2012
During the campaign I also spent a considerable time letterboxing the Ramsay electorate. One street name stood out: Romsey Ct. I couldn't help playing my game again - Ramsay / Romsey >>> a o e a.
If names were to matter, I would have given my vote to Green Candida T Ruth Susan Beach? But our district did not vote. We live in Playford. (Maybe that's why ...?)
But then, if names were to matter, a man named RUDD should be No. 1! Why?
Well, U R = You are. D D in Roman numerals adds to = 1 thousand.
But Kevin will need the 000. Otherwise Julia wins:
I L L D adds only to 399.
Maybe, if Julia changed her name to Ruth, even Ester or Naomi...?